


Heretic

by klarsin



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Explicit Language, Hybrids, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow To Update, side!ChenBaek, side!SeKai
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-10-02 20:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10226042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klarsin/pseuds/klarsin
Summary: Do Kyungsoo knows his place in the world.He knows that the nonsensical and the improper don't belong in society.Until he meets Park Chanyeol, a boy who believes in magic.





	1. Abyssinian I

White-collared boys stood shoulder to shoulder, their expressions unfaltering despite the sweltering heat of the summer day. From the fold of their trousers to the angle of their blazer lapels, not a single misplaced crinkle or crease could be observed; even the specks of dust in the air didn't dare settle on their tailored uniforms.

On the polished floor of the main hall tapped equally polished shoes, one parallel to every row of students, the sheen and cut of the black leather telling of an expensive foreign brand. As the owners of such shoes walked alongside the uniform ranks, no different in appearance from the other boys except for a badge pinned on their breast pockets, they scrutinised every detail of each individual they passed, a stern-faced countenance rivalling that of war-beaten generals.

Their badges bore the word 'Prefect', a title loathed by nearly all and respected by few.

By one row, the footsteps stopped, followed by a swish of fabric that cut through the apprehensive silence. "Unfold your sleeves this instant," ordered one prefect, holding the offending student's arm by his wrist.

"What are you going to do about it Kyungsoo?" he sneered, a rebellious glint to his eyes. "It's hot. Like hell am I going to unroll my sleeves."

Abruptly letting go of the boy, Kyungsoo drew closer, stiff-lipped and hardly in the mood for complaints. "Unless you want to run ten laps in this _hot_ weather Baekhyun, I suggest you don't argue with me," he said, unravelling the sleeves in one swift pull. "And fix your hair. This is a school, not a circus."

With nothing more to say, Kyungsoo returned to his duty with an unchanged steely expression, while behind him, dozens of eyes stared at his back, their malice boring holes into his short stature. When he criticised, they judged tenfold.

It was no secret, both to the staff and the students, that amongst the disciplinary prefects, Do Kyungsoo had made an exceptional number of enemies, all of whom despised the boy for the same reason: his attitude.

While the school itself had been unabashed with their strictness and adherence to tradition, Kyungsoo was on a completely different level, his personality being a combination of everything stressed teenage boys with little to no freedom could possibly hate. A suffocating austerity being one example.

Once the morning inspection had been completed and the five-hundred-strong student body dismissed for breakfast, Kyungsoo joined the rest of the prefect team, each one visibly relieved that their laborious task was finally over.

"Good work!" said Junmyeon, the senior prefect, as he patted Kyungsoo's back with gusto. "Keep this up and _everyone_ will hate you by the end of the year."

The other boys snickered, only to be immediately silenced by Kyungsoo's unimpressed glare, his heart-shaped lips pressed into a line. Had he actually known their names, he would've perhaps cared more.

"Including you?" Kyungsoo asked, owlish eyes staring up at his superior.

Taken aback, Junmyeon quickly reassured him, "No! Not at all!"

"How disappointing," Kyungsoo replied impassively, shaking his head.

Leaving behind a mildly flustered Junmyeon, he skirted around the other prefects, who were quick to avoid further eye contact. It was less out of fear, and more out of an unspoken agreement that they would stay out of each other's way.

As Kyungsoo crossed the threshold from the hall to the main corridor, he adjusted his badge out of habit, ensuring that it was perpendicular to the seam of his pocket. In the distance, the murmur of ravenous teenagers echoed, leaving him to grimace at the thought of the disorder and mayhem. Kyungsoo reluctantly made his way to the dining hall, knowing that Baekhyun and his cohorts would have a few choice comments for him. Not that they would ever say it to his face.

In the dining hall, rows of long wooden tables were arranged across the floor, each one with an array of fruits, cereals and various preserves atop their lacquered surfaces. Upon noticing that the supply of apricot jam was sorely lacking, Kyungsoo inwardly groaned, none too pleased with the idea of having to negotiate yet again for his share. Prefect privileges could only go so far.

By the back wall, beside a partially curtained window, sat Kyungsoo's long time - some might dare say _only_ \- friend, Jongdae, who waved at him with uninhibited enthusiasm. With the trajectory of the light rays, Jongdae's cheekbones were sharper than usual, as Kyungsoo noticed, reminding him of the ridiculous rumour that spread throughout the school during year nine.

While the details were hazy, it had basically involved fifty two perfectly sliced tangerines, 'razor implants' on Jongdae's skull and a mad scientist, none of which had been taken seriously except by the moronic few. Those moronic few also happened to be the loudest, much to the chagrin of virtually everyone who couldn't care less.

"Morning," Jongdae said, lips curled into a smile. "Baekhyun's been ranting about you again. Said he'll, and I quote, 'Break his arms 'til he can't row anymore.'"

"I'm practically quaking in my boots," Kyungsoo deadpanned, taking a seat opposite Jongdae. "He's all talk and no action. Probably still jealous that I got accepted into the rowing club and he didn't."

"That and he can't row for shit anyway," Jongdae scoffed, side-eyeing the boy in question, who was guffawing in his seat surrounded by a circle of boys.

"Language," Kyungsoo tutted, giving him a disapproving look, to which Jongdae merely laughed. From underneath the table, the latter produced a jar of apricot jam, still unopened and brimming with the sweet orange goodness that Kyungsoo so dearly cherished. "…Okay, I'll let you off with a warning."

"You better or else I'm leaving your moody ass here," Jongdae said, smirking as the jar was hastily popped open by Kyungsoo, who began to salivate at the sight of the untouched surface. "Thank Professor Zhang for that. Seriously, your tutor's the best. Mine hardly even shows up for tutor period!"

"Neither do _you,_ " Kyungsoo said after swallowing a mouthful of toast, taking care to wipe the crumbs on the corners of his mouth. While the pair talked over cereal and tea, the first bell eventually chimed, it's shrill ring resounding throughout the dining hall to signify the start of morning break.

In a matter of minutes, the entire school had spilled out onto the fields and courtyards, practically anywhere to escape the stuffy atmosphere of the aged buildings. As per usual, Kyungsoo and Jongdae spent their time in the west wing, wherein an arcade bordered a relatively large yard on the periphery of a fenced-off woodland.

The pair ambled down the walkway, voices echoing in the emptiness around them. Without warning, Jongdae stopped in his tracks before abruptly turning his head to the playing field in the distance.

"Oh no," He muttered, face paled in fear. "Minseok's going to kill me."

Looking over Jongdae's shoulder, Kyungsoo could make out the navy blue kit of the football team, who were standing around as if they were waiting for the game to start. "You were supposed to play today, weren't you?" he asked, to which Jongdae replied with a dispirited sigh. "Just go Jongdae, he'll understand."

"But-"

" _Go_."

As Jongdae sprinted down the hill leading to the field, throwing an apologetic glance at his friend, Kyungsoo stood in the middle of the walkway, through which a warm breeze meandered. It slipped past his ear, bringing with it a silent rush of air and the flutter of his blazer.

Before continuing on his solitary way, the wind changed direction, returning the breeze to Kyungsoo. This time, it brought with it a melodious, high-pitched ring. A cat's bell.

Situated in the centre of the yard was a mature alder tree, and on the lowest, thickest branch perched a cat with a red ribbon tied around its neck. Silver-furred and sleek in appearance, its feline eyes watched Kyungsoo silently, the golden bell it wore glinting in the sunlight.

Frowning, Kyungsoo approached the animal. Pets on school grounds was a violation of the rules, no matter how adorable they were.

"Come here," Kyungsoo said tersely, reaching up with the expectation that the cat would leap into his arms. Instead, it hissed and jumped off the branch, choosing to race towards the fence around the neighbouring woodland rather than reciprocating Kyungsoo's 'affections'. Not being one to give up so easily, the prefect chased after the cat, whose lithe body seemed to disappear into the darkness of the woods.

To his surprise, the fence gate was ajar, its chains that usually kept it locked loose and coiled on the floor. Realising that it was no longer a matter of cats, but trespassers _and_ cats, Kyungsoo delved into the woodland, his irritation slowly ticking over. While dealing with animals wasn't his forte, sniffing out deviants most certainly was.

Following the trail of paw prints, Kyungsoo soon found himself at a river bank, the shallow water lazily rolling over the rocks. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a cluster of guelder roses, their rings of white flowers reminding Kyungsoo of his mother's garden. The boy furrowed his eyebrows. He hadn't thought about her for a while.

Strewn over the shrub was a tie, on the large blade of which was the emblem of the school. Its bright red colour was a symbol of the Hawthorn house and perfectly represented Kyungsoo's current state: livid.

He picked it up, wondering how anyone could be so careless. Blatant disrespect of one's uniform was arguably the worst offence any student of Morborough Court could commit, and it seemed that that very student had already broken two other rules.

"Um, excuse me?" From behind him, a voice, deep and resonating, broke the lethargic silence of the woodland. "Could I have my tie back please?"

Though admittedly shocked by the sound, Kyungsoo immediately spun around with his finger pointed at the owner of the voice, only to end up prodding his chest after having completely misjudged the height difference between them.

With a snort of laughter, the tie-less boy slipped his finger underneath Kyungsoo's, tilting it upwards. "My eyes are up here," he said, grinning. "And wow, you're a prefect!"

"Yes, and you are?" Kyungsoo said, pulling his hand away before thrusting the tie towards the boy.

"Park Chanyeol, twelfth year, Hawthorn dorm and…err…recently enrolled. I think that's about it," he answered, rocking on the balls of his feet while he tied his tie. Piercing the tree canopy above their heads, thin rays of sunlight threaded through Chanyeol's hair, each individual strand taking on a silvery colour as his head moved slightly. Perhaps it was the trick of the light or delirium induced by the soaring temperatures, but Kyungsoo couldn't quite comprehend what he was seeing. "What's your name?"

"Do Kyungsoo and- let me do that," Kyungsoo sighed, fixing Chanyeol's lopsided attempt of a necktie. "Care to explain why you're in the middle of the woods, _trespassing_ mind you?"

"I was on my way here and then I got lost. That's it, end of story," Chanyeol said, staring down at the pair of hands at his neck. After tightening the knot, Kyungsoo looked up, noting how even the tips of Chanyeol's eyelashes were partially white. Above the tree canopy, a passing cloud briefly obscured the sun, casting a shadow over the woodland floor. In the darkness, absent of the dancing light, Kyungsoo could see nothing but strands of jet black hair, any and all traces of silver gone.

"Lost…" he said, bewildered by both Chanyeol's appearance and his explanation. Beside his foot, a stitched leather suitcase stood, the bottom of which was caked with dirt. "That can't be right."

"My parents dropped me off a mile or so away from here. I took a wrong turn, wandered into the woods and kept wandering," Chanyeol said with a shrug, long bony fingers tracing the bark of the tree behind him.

Although sceptical of his reasoning, Kyungsoo momentarily went along with it, having been far too concerned with the searing heat prickling at the skin beneath his starched collar. "You…nevermind. Let's get you out of here and then you can explain yourself properly."

Once they reached the yard, Kyungsoo eyed the chains again as he exited the gate, turning his attention to Chanyeol afterwards with an incredulous expression. The lanky boy had set his suitcase down on the grass, stretching his limbs in different directions in what seemed to be his attempt at undoing a knot in his back; it didn't quite work out, leading him to double over in pain when a cramp in his side suddenly formed.

Dumbfounded by Chanyeol's stupidity, Kyungsoo chose to look back at the gate. It was locked with the chains neatly wrapped around the bars, like they hadn't been touched at all. Chalking it up to midsummer madness, Kyungsoo dismissed it as a brief lapse in his memory; either that or his sanity was in danger.

"Hey Kyungsoo, do you believe in magic?"

It was an unexpected question, but Kyungsoo was left more displeased than surprised. "Not since I was ten," he said, drawing closer to the arcade, beyond which resounded the shouts of teenagers in a lively football game.

"Why did you stop believing?" Chanyeol asked, lumbering after Kyungsoo with the handle of his exceptionally heavy suitcase gripped between both hands. Upon noticing his struggle, Kyungsoo stepped back and took the luggage from the exhausted boy, effortlessly carrying it in one hand as if it was a grocery bag. Years of rowing had not only built up character but also a fair amount of upper body strength.

"Like everybody else, I grew up," Kyungsoo replied brusquely as he walked down the passageway leading to the school building. "If _you_ still believe in magic, then it's best that you do the same."

"What if I don't want to?" Chanyeol said, bouncing on his feet by Kyungsoo's side with a mischievous grin.

At his words, Kyungsoo halted at the doorway to the west wing. "You're going to have a hard time here if you don't," he said, head tilted towards the overly excited student. Where Chanyeol's eyes seemed to overflow with an overt happiness Kyungsoo had seldom seen in anyone before, his were cold - hardened by experience. "Hurry up, lessons start in ten minutes and I need to get you to your dorm."

Hawthorn dorm, much like the dorms for the other two houses, was located in the eastern sector of the school grounds, partially covered by uncontained woodland. Since sprinting in the corridors was forbidden, a rule that the prefects made sure to enforce, the pair arrived at the dorm after speed-walking through the main building, and in Kyungsoo's case, with one eye permanently fixed on his pocket watch.

Once at the doorway, Kyungsoo dropped the suitcase beside Chanyeol's feet, the taller boy's face flushed from the sudden burst of activity. "The housemaster's inside, his name is Professor Zhang. I need to go to lessons, see you around," he said briskly before hastily making his way down the steps, adjusting his crooked vest as he went.

"Thanks Kyungsoo!" Chanyeol called out after him, his smile unwavering despite being horribly out of breath. "Keep your window open tonight, it's going to be hot!"

Too preoccupied to decipher the boy's bizarre advice, Kyungsoo waved him off dismissively. Amidst the chirping of the birds, the second bell chimed, to the sound of which he quickened his pace, not wanting to tarnish his perfect record.

\---

Silently seated at their desks, thirty twelfth year boys dutifully made notes as they listened intently to their English teacher, the sound of pen scrawling on paper accompanying her lecture. Unlike in the other classrooms, the air was thick with the scent of cologne, the reasons for which were fairly obvious. Beside Kyungsoo, his desk partner was clearly gawking, his pen on the verge of slipping from his fingers.

"She's married," Kyungsoo said under his breath, scowling at the boy. When there was no response except for a half-hearted grunt, he whacked him upside the head. "As in, stop ogling and do some bloody work."

"Kyungsoo? What's the matter?" The English teacher asked concernedly, setting down her chalk stick.

With a hand on his classmate's neck, Kyungsoo answered bluntly, "Junwoo was drooling over you."

"Y-you dick," he spluttered, cheeks coloured red from the embarrassment. After abruptly rising to his feet, he stormed out of the classroom, "You're an absolute cunt Kyungsoo!" being his final words before slamming the door shut behind him.

Across from the prefect, Jongdae slumped in his seat, shaking his head in disbelief as the other boys whispered amongst themselves. "Was it something I said?" Kyungsoo remarked, resting his chin on the palm of his hand apathetically. "I don't know why you're all staring. Get back to work."

For the rest of the lesson, the female teacher nervously eyed her students, who kept their heads down in shame. The atmosphere had grown tense, with the scornful glares aimed at Kyungsoo being more heated than the scorching midday sun. Upon noticing the woman's worried looks, Kyungsoo couldn't help but feel guilty.

As the bells chimed the lunch hour, the boys quickly packed up their books once dismissed, the rumbling of their stomachs drowned out by their hurried exit from the classroom.

Before Kyungsoo could leave, a certain someone shuffled onto his desk, rattling the wood. "Baekhyun, get off my desk," he said, sneering at the sight of his face.

"How 'bout no?" Baekhyun said, crossing his legs for good measure. "Congrats on making the rowing team by the way. We'd throw a celebration party for you but, unfortunately, no one wants to attend."

Ignoring Baekhyun's comments, Kyungsoo slung his satchel over his shoulder, choosing to avoid any further conversation with the boy in the knowledge that they never ended well. By the doorway, Jongdae stood rigidly, his hands curling into fists when Baekhyun waved at him, a mocking smile on his lips.

"Let's go Jongdae," Kyungsoo said, skirting around his visibly irritated friend. "Oh and Baekhyun, your hairstyle is still atrocious, please change it immediately. The governors are visiting today and I don't want them to be offended."

While Baekhyun childishly pulled faces behind their backs, the two boys made their way to the dining hall, the promise of apple crumble being a saving grace for their otherwise uneventful day. Along the main corridor, various portraits of famous alumni and the occasional piece of artwork decorated the walls, the latter of which had originated primarily from the east.

One such portrait belonged to Professor Zhang's great-grandfather, the founder of Morborough Court. Located deep in the Kentish countryside, the school was host to a relatively large Asian population, most of whom were second or third generation immigrants with their parents being former students. As Kyungsoo scanned the endless line of oil paintings, he came across a familiar face.

"I know I always say this, but you look exactly like your mother," Jongdae said, glancing at the portrait on the adjacent wall.

Gripping the strap of his bag tighter, Kyungsoo bit the inside of his cheek, finding no resemblance in the warmth of her expression to himself. "Well she _was_ my mother Jongdae."

"Is," Jongdae corrected him, to which Kyungsoo frowned, an argument on his lips that he didn't want to voice. "Don't make a face like that, you're ruining my appetite."

The pair continued on their way, tugging at their collars in an effort to air out the accumulating body heat, though Kyungsoo remained vehement about keeping them prim and proper. As expected, the dining hall was packed to the rafters, leaving the two boys with very little leg room and several bruises from starving sharp-elbowed year seven's. One icy glare from Kyungsoo and they withered away, slinking back into the crowd out of fear.

After buying lunch, they sat in their usual spot on the back table, avoiding most of the hustle and bustle of the hall.

"Children these days don't know respect," Kyungsoo scoffed, slicing his steak with a certain malice to his movements. "I forgot to ask, how did the game go?"

"We lost against Blackthorn, three-nil," Jongdae said with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck in irritation. " _But_ Minseok was pretty chill about me being late, so there's that."

Around Jongdae's neck, the vibrant red tie of Hawthorn was neatly tied, in contrast to the rich orange of Kyungsoo's, representing the Sallowthorn house. Although nobody knew exactly why the houses were named after plants, some had attributed it to the founder's fascination with botany, a science which even Kyungsoo's mother had been interested in.

"That reminds me, there's a new kid in your dorm. His name is Chanyeol and-" Kyungsoo added, pursing his lips at the thought of their odd discussion. "-and he believes in magic."

"Is he twelve or something? You can't blame him for having an overactive imagination," Jongdae said, absentmindedly prodding at his roast potatoes, earning a disapproving look from Kyungsoo in turn.

"Sadly no. He's seventeen, our year," Kyungsoo said, to which Jongdae cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "Take care of him. He seems like the type to be easily bullied. Not to mention he's in the same house as Baekhyun of all people, there's bound to be some tears later."

Snorting with laughter, Jongdae replied with a smile. "Chanyeol's a seventeen year old guy, not a nine year old girl. I'm sure that his _precious_ heart won't be broken so quickly by a bit of light teasing."

After Kyungsoo downed a glass of ice water, his throat parched from the unbearable heat of the dining hall, Jongdae jutted out his bottom lip in thought, "Why are you so worried?"

"I'm not," Kyungsoo denied without missing a beat, drying his lips with a napkin as was proper etiquette. "I'm just concerned that someone could go through their whole life believing in something so…absurd."

"Right, whatever helps you sleep at night," Jongdae said, licking the last of the apple crumble from his spoon.

\---

When the final bell rang, the day pupils left their boarding counterparts for home, including Kyungsoo, thankful that the temperatures had fallen considerably, allowing for the cool evening air to replace the stifling humidity.

Kyungsoo's route back to his house was well-travelled, though mostly unoccupied during the late afternoon, leaving him with five minutes of peace and quiet. As he trudged down the gentle slope of the quiet road, the chiming of a cat's bell rang around him again.

Looking up at the wall beside him, Kyungsoo noticed the same silver-furred cat plodding across the mossy coping, its eyes fixed on him. "Are you going to run away this time as well?" he asked with an outstretched hand, his finger grazing against the cat's chin. Like he expected, it hopped off the wall and onto the side opposite Kyungsoo, minus the hostile hissing.

Though dejected by the cat's refusal to love him, Kyungsoo continued on his way and did his best to ignore the ringing of its bell in the distance.

Peeking over the clusters of small trees, two chimney tops and a terracotta roof could be seen, the red brick walls underneath only barely in Kyungsoo's line of sight. The house belonged to his aunt and uncle, both of whom were well-known maths tutors often hired by parents of London-based private school students, and as a result, they were rarely around.

When he opened the door, a silence greeted him, one that was as familiar as the back of his hand. From the kitchen, the smell of kimchi and fish stew wafted, leaving Kyungsoo mildly surprised; his aunt would only ever make Korean food on special occasions due to her hectic schedule, yet there was nothing special about that day.

"Ah Kyungsoo, you're back." His aunt's voice jolted him back to reality. In her hands were several herbs, presumably picked from the back garden. "Go on and start eating, your uncle and I will join you in a minute."

While she washed the herbs at the sink, Kyungsoo quietly ate his food, fumbling with his chopsticks as he tried to use them. It had been a while since he'd eaten with anything else other than a knife and fork, leading to various clumsy attempts at grabbing his food.

After a few minutes, his aunt and uncle sat at the table, each far more at ease with their utensils than Kyungsoo.

"Kyungsoo, your aunt and I are going to stay in Korea for a few months. We'll be selling the house and when we come back, we're moving to London permanently," his uncle said, a sympathetic tone to his voice. "You'll need to move into the dorms in the meantime-"

With those words, the boy's body stiffened, his throat tightening like it was a conditioned reflex.

"-And we know that that might be difficult for you, so if you want, we can find you a small flat maybe. We'll be sending you money, so you can focus on your studies-" his aunt quickly interjected, placing a consolatory hand on Kyungsoo's shoulder. It was warm, though it did little to comfort him.

"It's fine. I don't mind living in the dorms," Kyungsoo said, plastering on a smile as he set down his chopsticks. "It's all in the past now. I can cope with it."

Eyebrows knitted in worry, his uncle asked with genuine concern, "Are you sure?"

"Yep, don't you worry about me," Kyungsoo reassured him, trying to widen his smile until his cheeks began to hurt. "And have a safe trip."

With nothing left to discuss and the couple rid of their guilt, Kyungsoo made his way to his room, his shoulders feeling heavier than usual. He didn't want to be a burden.

Following Chanyeol's advice, Kyungsoo opened his window, letting in the night air. High up in the sky, the full moon shone, its light roaming across the clouds and into Kyungsoo's room, where it reflected off of the various objects displayed on the numerous shelves lining his walls. Most of them were accolades attained from his many rowing victories, whilst a few were the odd picture frame or trinket.

On his bedside table, a picture of him and his uncle during their fishing trip to the Lake District was framed, reminding Kyungsoo of his first ever catch. Both of them grew busier with age, but the fond memories were still there.

Amongst the various photos, however, none of them included his parents. Not a single fragment of them remained, not even in Kyungsoo's thoughts.

Knackered by the summer heat, Kyungsoo flopped onto his bed, the fluttering of his curtains lulling him to sleep.

 _Thud_        

Before he could slip away into his dreams, Kyungsoo's eyes snapped open at the sudden sound, momentarily dazed from the exhaustion. In the corner of his eye, precariously balanced on his window sill, was the crouching figure of a familiar boy; strapped around his neck was a red ribbon, on which a golden bell jingled.

"Hello! Thanks for keeping your window open!" he said cheerfully, the same voice, deep and resonating, cutting through the quiet.

It was Chanyeol. With a silver-furred cat's tail.

 


	2. Abyssinian II

Often times, an uninvited guest, whether it be a spider or fly, wanders into Kyungsoo's room and for the most part, he is left mildly irritated by their presence, for they were bacteria-laden nuisances at best. Chanyeol, as it were, was neither a spider nor a fly, and from Kyungsoo could see in the murky darkness, neither was he a human.

"Chanyeol?" Kyungsoo said, rubbing his eyes in the hopes that it was just a very unfortunate dream. Though dazed, he could make out the bony-limbed boy, who was grinning from ear to ear, baring his unusually white _sharp_ teeth.

When there was no answer, Kyungsoo squinted, adjusting his blurry vision to better look at the boy. However, instead of Chanyeol's figure, the silhouette of a cat was in its place, the moonlight bouncing off its metallic-coloured coat. In the shadows of the animal's face, its pale grey eyes - a similar shade to its fur - quietly stared back at Kyungsoo. Fully awake, the boy abruptly sat upright, mouth agape in shock.

"Jesus Christ I'm going insane," Kyungsoo muttered, massaging his temples. Beside him, the cat tilted its head inquisitively, mewing in response. " _You_ can just go away."

Blank-faced, the cat leapt off the window sill and onto a nearby branch before disappearing into the dense woods, as Kyungsoo had requested. Having enough of whatever was afflicting him, he shut the window and closed the curtains, silently praying for the encounter to have simply been a vivid dream, or rather, nightmare.

By the time Saturday morning came, Kyungsoo reluctantly woke up in a disgruntled state, prominent dark circles lining his eyes like purplish bruises. In the centre of his room was a stack of empty suitcases, ones he hadn't seen for a little under five years. Kyungsoo didn't need to be told of their purpose.

Two hours and a cup of black coffee later, not a trace of Kyungsoo's life remained in the room, having all been folded, pressed and compartmentalised into two hefty leather suitcases.  After saying his farewells to the empty house, Kyungsoo carried his luggage to the Sallowthorn dorms, a stack of paperwork tucked under his arm. It had been left on the dining table beside a small note of an apology, hastily written and hardly an uncommon sight.

As he lugged the suitcases up the hill leading to Morborough Court, the occasional car would edge down the rugged country road, leaving Kyungsoo to sidle up against the adjacent lichen-lined wall, the same one where he had re-encountered the mysterious cat. In a way, Kyungsoo was disappointed that it hadn't appeared again.

He eventually arrived at Sallowthorn dorms, the emblem of the house proudly etched on the entrance. Very little had changed from when Kyungsoo boarded in year seven, although the crawling ivy had crept further across the worn bricks, which was partly the fault of the housemaster's leniency with the maintenance.

At approximately midday, the paperwork was completed and Kyungsoo had settled into his second-floor dorm room, located directly in the face of the neighbouring woodland. The view was no different from his old bedroom, a fact that provided some comfort to the admittedly anxious boy.  There were quite a few memories in that building, most of which Kyungsoo had done well to block out.

While he set about unpacking his suitcases, a knock on the door sounded, followed by a muffled voice, "Kyungsoo, it's Junmyeon. Are you coming to the main hall for lunch?"

"Yeah I'll be there. Go on without me," Kyungsoo replied, seated on his bed with an opened box of picture frames on his lap. Despite being mildly irked by the senior prefect's overwhelming niceness, Kyungsoo appreciated his consideration at times, something which most other prefects, including himself, were wanting of. Sometimes, he regretted being so cold to Junmyeon, but for the most part, not really.

When Junmyeon's footsteps disappeared down the corridor, Kyungsoo turned his attention to the pile of photos, each one greatly varying from the other. All of his teenage years were compiled in one box: rowing competitions, holidays to Cornwall, his first day of secondary school, yet nothing of his life prior to Morborough Court could be seen. Kyungsoo didn't particularly care whether those photos were with his father in Canada or lying in a ditch somewhere.

Through the window, a breeze sauntered in, filling the relatively small space with the scent of fern, pinewood and…a cat. A cat that had grown far too confident for Kyungsoo's liking. Like a bullet in a spring-loaded gun, it ejected itself off the window stool it had sat on, landing with a perfect aim on the boy's lap. It snuggled itself on Kyungsoo's trousers, tail brushing playfully against his shirt. Unable to contain himself, he lifted the affable animal up to his chest, tickling the back of its ear.

"If I could, I would file a restraining order against you. You've been stalking me an awful lot lately," Kyungsoo said in an odd mix of cooing and berating. As if the cat had understood him, it looked up at the boy despondently, ears meekly downturned. "…Okay, I _wouldn’t._ "

Ignoring the low rumble of his stomach, he happily petted the cat, pleased that, for once in his life, an animal was actually fond of him. "I wonder what your name is…" Kyungsoo mumbled, letting the cat stretch and roll over his legs. A wry smile appeared on his lips as he jokingly asked, "Heh, is it Chanyeol?"

At his words, the cat stayed still, staring back at him with the same expression from the night before. Caught in a passing beam of light, its pale grey eyes seemed to change in shape, taking on a strangely humanlike appearance. After the brief moment of silence, the cat leapt off Kyungsoo and bounded out of the window, its bell ringing melodiously as it went.

Confused, Kyungsoo clambered after it, peering out the window at the courtyard beneath. There were no traces of silver, no bells to be heard, but only a light breeze, as carefree as the cat that went along with it.

Not wanting to linger on being rejected a third time, Kyungsoo left his room for the dining hall, taking care to brush the cat's fur off his polo shirt. He had, after all, violated the no pets rule.

Sprawled out over the various fields, a few hundred boys wore their casual wear as they lounged on the daisy-spattered grass, either picnicking or playing games. Having been a day pupil, Kyungsoo rarely ever saw such a sight, and though he shuddered at the thought of the grass stains, it was a pleasant change of scenery as he traipsed across the playing field, listless from the rising temperatures.

"You moved back into the dorms?" Jongdae asked, pointing a gravied fork at Kyungsoo. "Are you sure about this? Not to be a prick, but you haven't exactly had the _best_ experience there."

"I'm not twelve anymore. I can hold my own," Kyungsoo said dismissively, swatting his friend's hand away from his face. Around them, clusters of students sat at the neighbouring tables, their conversations all but low murmurs as they ate their lunch.

Unconvinced, Jongdae pressed on, "Mate you literally had a mental breakdown. Unless you know some hyper-stressed kids, twelve-year-olds don't _usually_ have that."

Despite his neutral tone, Jongdae's eyebrows were knitted anxiously. Five years together left both boys with a relatively good grasp of each other's habits, and from Kyungsoo's observations of Jongdae, he found that his friend's eyebrows expressed a whole lot more than his words ever could.

"And here I thought you wouldn't bring this up again." Running his fingers through his hair in agitation, Kyungsoo let his composure slip for a moment as he slumped in the wooden chair, lips pulled into a frown. Out of the many things he despised in the world, being pitied undoubtedly topped the list. "Quit your worrying, it's bloody annoying."

"Kyungsoo if I didn't worry, no one else would," Jongdae said with a teasing grin. Finding no lie in his statement, Kyungsoo shrugged in agreement. "By the way, that Chanyeol guy you were talking about is absolutely nuts."

Interest piqued, Kyungsoo sat up with a fading frown. "Everyone at the dorm seems to really like him. I don't actually know how to describe it. He's just one of those people, y'know?"

"When you say 'nuts'-"

"-I mean, off his rocker, loopy, insane. Whatever you want to call it," Jongdae interjected, smiling as if he was recalling the events. "You were right about him believing in magic, but the thing is, he actually wants to _be_ a magician. Last night, he pulled out a fucking sword from his sleeve. A sword, Kyungsoo. _Sword_. Like the ones that can decapitate you." To emphasise his point, he waved his butter knife, slathering the air with chunks of pork and bits of broccoli florets.

"Did you report it to the housemaster?" Kyungsoo asked, neither amused by Jongdae's behaviour nor his description of Chanyeol.

"Pfft, Professor Zhang was the first to applaud him," Jongdae snorted, quickly pulling away his knife from Kyungsoo, who had lunged over the table in an attempt to grab the utensil. "Man, the only thing Chanyeol has to fear is _you_ and your stuck-up self. He's hit it off with Baekhyun, Junwoo and all those other loudmouths."

Impatiently tapping the table, Kyungsoo set his mouth into a hard line, none too pleased about the new development. While Jongdae continued to polish his plate clean, Kyungsoo's had been largely left abandoned, his hunger having been filled by a tightening knot in his stomach. After a moment's deliberation, he clicked his tongue and stood up, the chair abruptly screeching across the floor.

"I'll see you later. I need to unpack," Kyungsoo muttered, before striding out of the hall with white-knuckled fists. He had expected Chanyeol to be the sociable type, but not the kind to hang out with the likes of Baekhyun's crowd. As petty as it was, he hated the very idea of it.

"M'kay, I'll come round and help!" Jongdae called out, mouth full of pudding, "…Or not, depends on how I'm feeling."

\---

Wanting to avoid the glaring sun, Kyungsoo rerouted himself through the west wing, finding safety in the tepid shadows of the roofed walkway. As he walked down the empty arcade, unsure of where he intended to go after having chosen against returning to the dorm, an arm was slung around his shoulder followed by an earthy smell.

"So a little bird told me that you're boarding again," said the owner of the arm, Baekhyun, the sight of whom only served to further sour Kyungsoo's mood.

Wrinkling his nose at the dirt-stained rugby shirt on Baekhyun's back, Kyungsoo shoved him away. "What little bird?" he asked, wiping the flecks of mud off his clothes.

"The new kid, Chanyeol," Baekhyun answered, leaning nonchalantly against a brick column. "How'd you become friends with someone like him? He's even louder than _me_."

"I don't know where you got the idea that Chanyeol and I are friends from," Kyungsoo said, raising an eyebrow dubiously. He had fallen for Baekhyun's pranks many times before, enough to have become sceptical of everything the boy told him. "I think you've been hit on the head by one too many rugby balls. Can't be helped, I suppose, seeing as you're god awful at every sport you do."

"I wanted to have a civilised conversation, the fuck are you insulting me for?" Baekhyun huffed, folding his arms in annoyance. "Anyway, Chanyeol said that he was going to visit you, which was pretty much how I found out that you moved back into the dorms. You can't tell me that you two aren't close in some way."

Once Kyungsoo had managed to process Baekhyun's words, a look of utter bewilderment on his face, his eyes suddenly widened at the revelation. Without saying anything more, he hurried past Baekhyun, who in turn wore a similarly confused expression at Kyungsoo's unceremonious departure.

"Rude. Not even a goodbye," Baekhyun said with a sneer, though Kyungsoo was already at the other end of the walkway. "And watch your back! Junwoo's pissed off with you again."

Spinning around, Kyungsoo returned his attention to the boy, glaring defensively, "Is that a threat?"

"It's a warning, you twat. Calm yourself," Baekhyun said, giving him a twisted smile.

With that, the two boys went about their separate ways, backs quickly turning on each other as if they hadn't even talked.

Five minutes later, Kyungsoo burst into the entrance hall of the Sallowthorn dorms, surprising Junmyeon, who was sat in the adjacent common area. On his lap and stacked on the end table beside his chair were several books, the former of which seemed to engulf Junmyeon's  body. Accompanied with a knitted shawl, he looked more like a grandmother than a teenage boy.

"Well aren't you lively today?" Junmyeon remarked, softly closing the book in his hands. It didn't help his case that he acted more like a housemaster than the housemaster himself. "Sorry I didn't join you for lunch, Minseok needed help with an errand."

"Is Chanyeol here? Did you see him?" Kyungsoo asked breathlessly, uninterested in whatever Junmyeon was saying.

Shrugging off the indifference as if it was expected, Junmyeon replied, "I don't know who that is, but I _think_ I heard someone walking in earli-"

Before he could finish, Kyungsoo was already halfway up the stairs, practically leaping up the steps in his haste, though he still took care in keeping his movements controlled and respectful of the Student Code of Conduct. It dawned on Kyungsoo that he hadn't even told Chanyeol he was boarding, their last conversation having been outside Hawthorn dorms. He didn't count his lucid dream from the night before, deeming it as just that: a dream.

Wary that he had simply been duped by Baekhyun again, Kyungsoo entered his dorm room uneasily and half-expected a custard pie to be thrown at his face. However, there was neither a creamy dessert nor any sign of Chanyeol, but only the contents of his suitcases strewn about on the carpeted floor, as he had left them.

There was, on the other hand, the same silver cat napping on his bed, making a home for itself amongst the linen sheets it had curled up in. Outside the window, the tell-tale signs of a thunderstorm appeared in the form of grey, brooding clouds, ones that were slowly rolling over the otherwise empty expanse of blue sky.

A muted darkness crept over Kyungsoo's room as he approached the slumbering cat. "Chanyeol?" he asked, before quickly laughing off the idea altogether. Choosing not to delve into such a nonsensical notion that a human could possibly a cat, and vice versa, Kyungsoo resumed unpacking and left the animal to enjoy its afternoon nap.

Far in the distance, the low rumble of thunder resonated in the humid air, and though it was relatively quiet, it was enough to drown out the noise of the boys on the field. While Kyungsoo sifted through his luggage in silence, a soft meow caught his attention.

"Hello there Sleeping Beauty," Kyungsoo said with a warm smile, motioning the cat to come closer. "You really can't stay here, I'm afraid. Pets aren't allowed in the dorms."

When the cat prodded its head against his hand, its ticked fur running against his skin, Kyungsoo sighed in resignation, "But I suppose you aren't my pet."

As the rain clouds gradually consumed the sky, Kyungsoo went about decorating his room while the cat weaved around his legs, sticking close to its pseudo-owner. By the time the gentle breeze had turned into a howling wind, his desk had been meticulously arranged, the shelves lined with his numerous trophies, polished and in height order, and his wardrobe categorised by colour.

Accompanying his padded footsteps and conversations with the cat was the pitter-patter of raindrops, which eventually grew louder and louder until it was a thunderous torrential downpour. No longer able to hear his own thoughts, Kyungsoo shut the window and swooped the cat into his arms, stroking its back as he plopped down on his bed, exhausted from what should've been a two-man job. Jongdae never did show up in the end.

"That idiot's so damn forgetful," Kyungsoo said to no one in particular, leaning his head against the wall. "No that's giving him too much credit. He's just lazy."

On his lap, the cat was dozing off again, its head bobbing against Kyungsoo's stomach. "What's a good name for a cat?" he asked himself, tapping his chin in thought. "Ethel. No. Margaret. Wait, are you even a girl…huh, nope. Okay, Algernon. No, no. _Manfred_."

From the cat's throat emerged a deep grumble, one that Kyungsoo assumed was of pure disgust, "I take it that you don't want to be called Manfred. Ethel it is then."

While the brunt of the storm drew closer to the school, the rooftops being mercilessly battered under its force, Kyungsoo picked up his copy of the 'The Tempest' and let Shakespeare's words wash over him, forgoing the analysis of the text his English teacher had set for homework. Much like the cat, he too had grown tired, both from boredom and the lulling sound of distant thunder.

Suddenly, a crackle of lightning split through the white noise, causing the cat to jump in surprise. As Kyungsoo regained his vision after the blinding flash of light, he felt the weight of the cat quadruple, as if it had rapidly grown in size. Before he could figure out what was going on, two human arms wrapped themselves around his neck, holding on tightly for dear life.

In the space where there was nothing, a certain boy with discoloured hair filled the gaps.

"Ahhh I hate thunder," Chanyeol groaned, nuzzling his nose into Kyungsoo's hair. "Oh hey, I morphed."

Speechless, Kyungsoo blinked in response, unsure of what to make of the situation. "You…you're a cat? _The_ cat?" he asked, trying, and failing, to untangle Chanyeol from himself. While he floundered beneath the strange boy, a puckish grin played on Chanyeol's lips, leaving Kyungsoo's stomach to turn with worry.

From Chanyeol's tailbone, a silver-furred tail emerged and coiled around himself, while at the same time, the tufts of grey patches on his head twitched and grew, forming pink-fleshed cat ears. For good measure, Chanyeol gave him a sharp-toothed grin, revealing his extraordinarily pointed pairs of canines.

"Yep! Good on you for figuring it out," Chanyeol said cheerily, his face inches away from Kyungsoo's, which seemed to be draining of all its blood. "It's been fun playing with y-- oh dear, you fainted."

Chanyeol carefully climbed off Kyungsoo's lap and tucked the unconscious body into bed. After making sure he was still in fact breathing and hadn't mysteriously died, Chanyeol placed a parting gift on Kyungsoo's bedside table, before proceeding to open the window, letting in a strong gust of wind.

Where his figure had been, a biting cold filled the emptiness.

\---

_Tick_        

The wall clock struck midnight, its chimes ringing in Kyungsoo's dorm room. At the foot of his bed, the waning moon's light spilled through the adjacent window, followed with nothing more than the crisp scent of a cool post-thunderstorm air.

As Kyungsoo slowly opened his eyes, dazed and vaguely able to recall his name, a glimmer of gold caught his attention. It was an envelope: on its face, 'Kyungsoo Do' was written in cursive atop the golden paper, the seams of which were embossed with the emblems of Morborough Court School and its houses.

After making quick work of opening it, Kyungsoo held and examined the invitation card within. Below his name, the words 'Summer Solstice Carnival' and 'Sage's Wood' were written, as well as - quite ominously - 'Congratulations'.

Having no clue as to what it meant, Kyungsoo dismissively set the invitation aside and climbed off his bed, yawning as he trudged over to the bathroom. While he scratched his head sleepily, strands of silver hair intertwined with his own fell to the floor, shining like fine strips of metal. Bewildered, Kyungsoo squinted at them with weary eyes, trying to make sense of their appearance.

Something had happened, yet he couldn't quite remember. There was definitely a cat involved, Kyungsoo was sure of that.

"Evening!"

Practically jumping out of his skin, Kyungsoo swerved around to face the window. Framed by the cotton curtains, Chanyeol sat on the window stool, swinging his legs playfully. Poking from his otherwise neatly coiffed hair was a pair of cat ears, ones that flooded Kyungsoo's head with the momentarily forgotten memories of the afternoon.

"Chanyeol, hurry up!" From behind Chanyeol, an unfamiliar voice whined, "All of Jongin's grandmother's Viennese whirls are going to run out at this rate. I. Want. The. Whirls."

Shaking his head disapprovingly, Chanyeol shifted his attention to the owner of the voice, leaning backwards out of the window, "All you'll be getting is type two diabetes if you don't fix your sweet tooth, Sehun. Now _shh_ , I'm talking."

"How incredibly rude of you."

"I'm your older brother, therefore, I'm automatically more important than you, _therefore_ , you have to do what I say," Chanyeol said with a triumphant smile, before turning back to Kyungsoo, whose mouth was partially open, ready to speak but lacking any comprehensible thoughts to be voiced. "Please don't faint again."

Drawing closer to the window, Kyungsoo grabbed the curtains and swiftly pulled them shut, blocking out Chanyeol's face from his view. Through the fabric, the silhouette of the boy's torso remained still, a tail swinging vigorously with indignation behind it, followed by a fit of hysterical laughter from who Kyungsoo assumed to be Sehun.

Still gripping onto the curtains to prevent Chanyeol from opening them, Kyungsoo sighed deeply as he tried to recompose himself. "If I see you one more time, I probably will," he said. At that, Chanyeol's tail relaxed and dropped to his side. "I'm guessing that you gave me that invite, and that you're going to the Summer Solstice Carnival - whatever the hell that is."

"Well it wasn't from me, but the organiser of the event. I'm just the delivery boy," said Chanyeol, pressing his nose against the thin material. Without missing a beat, Kyungsoo pushed it back with the palm of his hand, resulting in a small yelp of surprise.

"Who's the organiser?" Kyungsoo asked, letting go the curtains out of fear of crumpling the fabric.

"You'll know if you come with me," Chanyeol replied, glimpses of his face appearing in the gaps to reveal a smug grin. "Also, declining a direct invite is considered an insult. You wouldn't want to _disrespect_ the organiser, am I right?"

With his eye twitching in irritation, Kyungsoo glowered, knowing full well that Chanyeol had hit all the right buttons. "Will everything be explained if I go?"

"Mm-hmm. Everything," Chanyeol hummed, unfazed by the murderous glare aimed at him. As he dramatically opened the curtains with a flourish, the sight of unknown objects whizzing across the night sky caught Kyungsoo's eye. They certainly weren't shooting stars, but they seemed to leave a trail of glistening dust behind.

"…Fine," he finally answered, in awe at the hundreds of glowing streaks painting the velvety darkness. "What is that?"

"They're on their way to the Carnival," Sehun said nonchalantly. Squeezing himself into the gap between Chanyeol and the window jamb, Kyungsoo peered out to look at the boy. Like his brother, Sehun had a cat's tail and ears, albeit black instead of silver and the same shade as his hair colour. However, _un_ like his brother, he looked perpetually annoyed rather than happy.

There was also the matter that Sehun was perched on a broomstick, one that was floating in mid-air, free of any strings or supports.

In some twisted way, it was starting to make sense for Kyungsoo.

"Are you witche-"

"No. We're magicians in training. Don't you dare say witches or warlocks or wizards or any other 'w' word," Sehun quickly stopped him, ascending on the broomstick to meet Kyungsoo at eye-level. "And _no_ , the Carnival is not a coven and you aren't going to be made a blood sacrifice. Just thought I'd clarify."

"The Carnival is a gathering of magicians, not witches," Chanyeol added, swerving his body around to sit on the outer ledge of the window, his back to Kyungsoo's room. "We don't take kindly to being mistaken for those hags."

"But you're both cats," Kyungsoo said drily, narrowing his eyes at the two brothers. "You can't possibly be a cat and a magician. Pick one to confuse me with."

"We don't have time for this," Sehun said impatiently, bouncing on his broomstick like a child mid-tantrum, "My whirrrls."

Pursing his lips, Chanyeol scolded him, "Pack it in Sehun. God you're an embarrassment."

With a flick of his wrist, an unoccupied broomstick rocketed towards Chanyeol, coming to a halt by his knees, where it bobbed in anticipation for its owner. After hopping on, Chanyeol gestured Kyungsoo to join him, the latter of whom raised an eyebrow apprehensively.

"I better be alive by this time tomorrow," Kyungsoo said, carefully seating himself behind Chanyeol.

In a matter of seconds, Kyungsoo found himself soaring through the sky, merging with the never-ending legion of magicians. Behind him, lustrous clouds of particles diffused from the bristles of the brush, spreading out into the chilly air. As much as Kyungsoo liked to think that everything had a rational explanation, he couldn't find one for the cat-boys, the magicians nor the sparkling flying broomsticks, which frightened him more than anything else.

Sage's Wood, as Kyungsoo soon realised, referred to the woodland bordering the school. In the centre of the dense cluster of trees, where all the magicians seemed to collect, a brightly lit clearing could be seen, from which the sound of lively folk music and the chatter of the Carnival guests arose.

"The organiser's been waiting for this day," Chanyeol said, his voice barely audible in the whistling wind as they dove down towards their destination.

"Who is it? You can tell me now, we're practically already at the Carnival," Kyungsoo stated, a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as their descent quickened.

Humming in thought with his hair wildly tousled by their rapid flight, Chanyeol answered, "If I recall correctly, she said that the last time you saw her was around five or so years ago."

Images of guelder roses and a comforting smile framed by sleek black hair came to Kyungsoo's mind. A woman with an interest in botany. A woman whose husband left her for another. A woman who abandoned her son.

 


	3. Abyssinian III

"My mother?" Kyungsoo asked, burying his nose into Chanyeol's back as the wind lashed his face. Rather than a steady downward climb, the broomstick seemed to be plunging towards the ground at a terrifying speed. "Hey, slow down. You're going too fast!"

"Sorry what?!" shouted Chanyeol, the roaring air current drowning out his voice.

On the wide clearing, hundreds of black-caped magicians landed, gracefully gliding across the grass before coming to a halt in front of the various colourful stalls, where they sprung off their broomsticks and joined the festivities.

Chanyeol, having missed the timing completely, skidded across the turf with Kyungsoo latched onto his back, sending the pair tumbling over each other and into the nearby brush. In the distance, the sound of Sehun's cackling ringed, followed not long after by sarcastic cheers from passing magicians.

After angrily brushing off the leaves and debris tacked onto his shirt, Kyungsoo snapped his head towards Chanyeol, red-faced from embarrassment. " _You_ ," he growled, grabbing Chanyeol by the collar.

"I will compensate any injuries with either food or money," Chanyeol quickly said, hands up in surrender. "Preferably food because I'm pretty hungry myself."

"No, I want you to take me to my mum as quickly as you can so I can leave as quickly as _I_ can," Kyungsoo said, letting go of Chanyeol's shirt before rising to his feet, under which the matted heath had transformed into a trampled bed of mauve foxgloves. Wide-eyed, Kyungsoo spun around to survey the rest of his surroundings.

Where the dense woodland had bordered the clearing, a meadow had taken its place, one which rolled over the hills in every direction. The Carnival had expanded beyond its original borders, with both the guests and stalls having multiplied drastically.

Interspersed with the small spread of festival stalls, canvas marquees stood where none had been before, their interiors glowing a warm yellow to match the equally warm environment.

"What on Earth-" muttered Kyungsoo, stepping out of the way of a game of tag between a group of children.

"You wanted to find your mother? Let's go find your mother," Chanyeol said with a beaming smile, wrapping a hand around Kyungsoo's wrist before dragging his companion through the swathes of people.

'People' in the loosest sense of the word. Some were simply beasts in black capes, whilst others looked perfectly human, save for the odd pair of animal ears.

"Hold on, what the hell just happened?" asked Kyungsoo, tearing himself away from Chanyeol's grip out of pride, which turned out to be a mistake. In a matter of seconds, Kyungsoo was swept backwards by the crowd, who almost blindly trampled him in their excitement.

Laughing at Kyungsoo's expense, Chanyeol reached over and pulled the struggling boy back towards him. "You may be a billion times stronger than me, but that won't stop you from getting lost," he said, chuckling as Kyungsoo reluctantly let himself be led.

As Chanyeol navigated Kyungsoo through the area to an unknown destination, the buzz of the Carnival grew louder and with thrice the level of energy. Seated around the richly laden buffet tables in the marquees, families of magicians merrily ate their dinners, whilst those that crowded the food stands praised the various wild birds on display or the lavish array of desserts.

Had it not been night time, Kyungsoo would've thought it was another summer garden event his aunt liked to coax him into attending. He could never refuse in the end, despite the awful memories of tipped platters and cucumber sandwiches in his hair.

Eventually, Chanyeol stopped behind a relatively large stall, away from the hustle and bustle.

"Right, I've lost Sehun and my mum might kill me, but that's not important at the moment," he declared, seemingly indifferent to whatever plight his brother could have been in. "Because, call me a psychic, I think you're in dire need of an explanation."

"Oh how did I give it away? I mean, it's not like I _asked_ for an explanation before you whisked me away to magicland," said Kyungsoo, punctuating his discontent with an eye roll.

"Still salty about that eh?"

Kyungsoo narrowed his eyes at Chanyeol, who shrugged his shoulders innocently, "…Anyways, I'm all ears for your grand explanation."

"First thing's first, the place you're standing on is called Morford Hill and over there-" said Chanyeol, dramatically gesturing at the ground beneath him, before pointing at a building beyond the Carnival's reaches, "-is a school, Sagewood Academy."

Kyungsoo stood on his tiptoes to look over the vast sea of tent tops. "That looks exactly like Morborough Court."

"Uh-huh, now turn around and don't blink," ordered Chanyeol, waving a hand over Kyungsoo's eyes once the boy did as he was told.

In place of the expansive meadow, the woodland returned and the Carnival jarringly shrunk back into the clearing's confines. Through the gaps between the trees, Kyungsoo could make out the dorms of Morborough Court not too far in the distance, their roof spires glinting in the moonlight.

Unable to keep his eyes open any longer, Kyungsoo blinked and the school, along with what he had assumed to be Sage's Wood, was no more.

"During the solstices, the boundaries between your world and my world get a bit fuzzy," Chanyeol continued, fishing out a lollipop from the depths of his coat pockets as he spoke. Kyungsoo shuddered at the thought of how long it had been there. "They're each other's counterparts. A lot may _look_ different, but you'll always find similarities."

"What do you mean by 'your world and my world'?"

"My world is called the Voyance, where magic breathes through its residents. If you're a human born in the Voyance, then you're automatically a magician. That process is a tad bit different for hybrids like me," responded Chanyeol as he toiled over opening the lollipop wrapper. "Your world is the Providence, where the magicless go about their pitiful days being, well, magicless."

"I feel like I should be offended by that, but I'm not sure," Kyungsoo remarked, seizing the sweet from Chanyeol to then tear the plastic with ease. "So why were there magicians in the Providence?"

"Because why not? Everyone's free to live wherever the hell they want," Chanyeol said, graciously retrieving his lollipop. "You won't be finding any magicless here though; they don't have the ability to cross between worlds."

"But _I'm_ here."

"Hmmm I wonder why?" hummed Chanyeol, followed by a slick _pop_.

"Oh. _Oh_."

"The offspring of magicians are, as you guessed it, magicians by default as well. All you need is the genes and boom! Magic fun times," Chanyeol said enthusiastically, bouncing on the spot like a hyper puppy. He was very much a dog-like cat, as Kyungsoo found. "Congratulations! Your mother, a magician, reproduced _you,_ a magician!"

"Please don't put my mother and reproduction in the same sentence," said Kyungsoo drily, nose wrinkled in disgust. "So I've been a magician for my entire life and I'm only hearing about this now from a stranger instead of the woman who raised me."

Rather than the overjoyed reaction Chanyeol had at least expected, there was only a subtle change in Kyungsoo's usually neutral expression. For a while, Kyungsoo stood there silently, mulling over Chanyeol's news.

"That's...you do tend to dampen the mood, don't you?" Chanyeol tried to joke around, but the laughter soon died in his throat as Kyungsoo merely stared at him, neither a glare nor a look of disapproval. With furrowed eyebrows, Chanyeol dropped his happy-go-lucky attitude for a moment of earnestness. "Are you upset?"

His posture had become rigid, stifled by the sudden awkwardness.

"No Chanyeol, not upset," Kyungsoo finally answered with a longdrawn sigh, shoulders shuddering slightly. His mood had darkened, enough to wash away Chanyeol's smile completely. "Let's just go."

\---

There had only ever been two moments in Kyungsoo's life when he was truly unsure of himself. One was at the age of twelve when he held a pair of rowing oars for the first time, handed to him by Professor Zhang in an attempt to connect with the isolated boy.

Second was in the same year, when Jongdae and Baekhyun offered to sit with him in the dining hall, fresh-faced and yet to be swayed by cliques and social hierarchies.

Then came a third, when an overly positive cat magician told Kyungsoo he'd have to see his mother again.

Through a grove where the Carnival's boundaries tapered and across a shallow stream, Chanyeol led Kyungsoo to Sagewood Academy, its classrooms still fully lit as if the school day had never ended. In all aspects, the school seemed to be an exact replica of Morborough Court, down to the type and arrangement of flowers growing outside the entrance.

"They offer evening classes here," said Chanyeol, giving a courteous nod to the receptionist as the pair strolled into the main building. "It's for magicians living in the Providence, 'cos how else are they going to learn about magic?"

Preoccupied with observing the familiar surroundings, Kyungsoo muttered indifferently, "I didn't ask."

Perhaps it was the muggy weather or it being well past his curfew that was slowly draining the life from Kyungsoo. Or perhaps it was the inevitable meeting with his mother that hung over him, stirring up all sorts of unpleasant feelings. Or perhaps it was Chanyeol, whose vocabulary lacked the verb 'to quit'.

"Any comments will have to wait _after_ my guided tour." With a smirk, Chanyeol continued on his spiel about Sagewood Academy, including, for some reason unbeknownst to Kyungsoo, the history behind its brickwork. Never before had Kyungsoo heard someone outline the origins of lumps of clay so eagerly.

While Chanyeol's lilting voice provided some background noise, Kyungsoo's eyes were drawn to the wall of paintings they came to pass. Instead of portraits of famous alumni, it consisted largely of still life, most of which featured bizarre plants Kyungsoo didn't even know existed.

"The previous headmistress commissioned for these to be made," said Chanyeol, hopping over to a particularly large painting of a wreath. "This one's her favourite. The plants here are sallowthorn, blackthorn and hawthorn. Personally, I find it kinda ugly - needs more _oomph_."

"Now how does this concern me? Stop stalling and move," Kyungsoo snorted, though he still examined the artwork out of interest. After all, it was rare even in Morborough Court to come across the namesakes of the houses - they just weren't as visually appealing as traditional roses or lilies.

With a laugh, Chanyeol answered, "Of course it concerns you. Where do you think we're going?"

"To see my mum-" said Kyungsoo matter-of-factly, before pausing at the sudden revelation. "-Wait a minute, is she the headmistress of this school?"

Slumping his back against the wall, Chanyeol shook his head, "No, not anymore. _My_ mother is though."

"And why am I only hearing about this now?" Kyungsoo asked, staggered by Chanyeol's decision to give a rundown of useless facts instead of sharing such crucial information.

"You didn't ask." Chanyeol stuck his tongue out teasingly, before knocking on the wall beside the picture frame.

Aside from the image of the wreath, the entire canvas faded away in a distorted shimmer, resembling that of heat hazes like the ones Kyungsoo had seen on the baking concrete roads of the motorway. Where the painting had been stood a mahogany door, on which a three-dimensional wreath hung. A debossed plaque on the central panel read 'Headmistress'.

From the clock tower not too far in the distance, fairly visible through the arched windows of the corridor, the one o'clock bell sounded. At that moment, the door swung open, in time with the first and only ring of the hour.

"Right on time!" said Chanyeol, motioning his companion to enter first. Once Kyungsoo was a little ways beyond the threshold, Chanyeol gave him a reassuring pat on the back. "Have fun!"

With that, the door slammed shut, leaving Kyungsoo in complete darkness. A pleasant smell lingered in the air, though Kyungsoo was unsure from where or what. It was somewhat familiar, he had to admit.

"Chanyeol if this is your idea of a joke-" Kyungsoo said, groping blindly for a door knob. Without warning, the light bulbs flashed on, bathing the room they illuminated in a warm, welcoming glow.

At a desk in the middle of the small space, a suited woman who bore a striking resemblance to Chanyeol sat with a smile, her clasped hands resting on the surface as if she had been waiting patiently for a visitor.

"Welcome to Sagewood Academy, Kyungsoo," she said, rising from her seat as she offered a hand. "Is my son giving you a hard time already?"

"You mean Chanyeol? Well…yes, to put it bluntly," Kyungsoo said in response, firmly shaking Mrs. Park's hand after making his way to her desk. "I'm sorry if this comes off as rude, but I was expecting to see my mother."

"That's what I was hoping to discuss," said Mrs. Park, gesturing Kyungsoo to take a seat. "But first of all, let me ask you a question. Do you know why you're here?"

Seating himself opposite to the headmistress, Kyungsoo answered flatly, "Like I said, to see my mother. She apparently organised the Carnival, and for some reason, she invited me."

"You don't seem very pleased about that," she remarked in a mildly surprised tone, raising a curious eyebrow.

"Hence why I want to talk to her," Kyungsoo continued, eyeing the papers strewn about the desk and already making judgements about the woman's organisational skills. On top of a messy pile of documents, a file with his name printed across the top was placed. "Unless, Mrs. Park, I'm sitting here for another reason entirely."

"How perceptive. It must run in the family, I suppose," said Mrs. Park, offhandedly covering the file with a loose sheet. "Yes, the Carnival was her creation, the invite, however, was not. That was my doing."

"So this is all a lie?" asked Kyungsoo, jaw clenched. "Why _am_ I here?"

"Truth be told, no one knew you had existed until recently, not even myself," Mrs. Park replied, sliding a bowl of biscuits towards Kyungsoo. There were only coconut macaroons left; Kyungsoo politely declined.

"Not too long ago, your mother sat in the same seat as me. In fact, the plants she tended to are still here. But a day before the summer solstice, she handed in her resignation and disappeared."

_That seems to be her habit_ , Kyungsoo thought, gritting his teeth. It was no wonder it smelled like a palace garden; his mother often left traces of her love of plants everywhere.

Mrs. Park passed Kyungsoo a slightly crumpled post-it note, the words on which were hastily scribbled. "The only thing she left behind was a note with your details on it. She wanted you to enrol at Sagewood. _That_ is why you're here."

"What makes you think I'll say yes?" asked Kyungsoo, screwing up the piece of paper before throwing it into the nearby bin. It had stunk of perfume. His mother's preference for lavender scents hadn't changed.

"I understand if you don't want to," said Mrs. Park, leaving her desk for the kitchenette in the corner of the room. "When I sent my son to you, I expected him to come back empty-handed. It's a miracle that he managed to persuade you."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you don't sound very confident in your son's abilities."

"His magical abilities, I have every confidence in. His ability to find a partner, not so much," she continued with a resigned sigh, busying herself by preparing two cups of tea.

"A partner?" Kyungsoo asked with uncertainty, gesturing for two sugar cubes.

"By law, hybrids have to be a human magician's partner - or familiar - for a minimum of one year during their education, or else they'll never graduate from their 'magician-in-training' status to a full-fledged magician," said Mrs. Park, flicking the kettle on with a manicured finger. To Kyungsoo, she was perhaps the most lax teacher he had ever met.

"Wait why is that a legal obligation?"

"Oh it's an ancient system, back when hybrids were more animal than human and had to be 'tamed'," Mrs. Park said with an edge to her tone, tapping her long nails on the countertop impatiently. "It's become more of a tradition now, one that's ingrained in the Voyance's society."

Suffering from mild culture shock, Kyungsoo pressed on, "Isn't that basically discrimination?"

"The school does its best to promote it as a 'buddy' system rather than a reminder that hybrids used to be feral slaves." After a click and the clatter of saucers, Mrs. Park returned to the desk with two cups of brewing tea. "But we can't _not_ do it. Lying about a hybrid's partnership results in hefty fines, and permanent damage to their reputation as well as the institution's."

"…Are you telling me this just so I pity Chanyeol and enrol into Sagewood?" Kyungsoo asked, silently disapproving of the headmistress' choice not to use coasters.

"No, but I want you to understand his situation," said Mrs. Park, pulling out two doilies from her drawer as if she had read Kyungsoo's mind. "Hybrids are only marginally weaker in magic ability than humans, but they're still not considered magicians by birth. The rare few can even surpass a qualified magician."

"And Chanyeol really wants be a magician, I'm guessing," Kyungsoo muttered, staring at the still surface of the tea. "…I'll think about it."

"Thank you."

\---

After exiting the headmistress' office, Kyungsoo was greeted by Chanyeol, whose bottom lip was smeared with blood. At the corner of his mouth, the downy barbs of a feather poked out. Kyungsoo assumed that was what remained of Chanyeol's dinner.

"Take me back," Kyungsoo said, stifling a yawn. He rubbed his temples, trying to soothe his pounding headache. "I need to do some thinking."

Flashing a grin in response, Chanyeol revealed his demonic set of red-tainted teeth, which almost sent a weary Kyungsoo into a state of shock. "Go gargle some holy water," said Kyungsoo with a glare, brushing past Chanyeol and back down the corridor to the reception area.

During the short return trip, Chanyeol mindlessly chattered about several things Kyungsoo couldn't care less about, but he kept an ear open nonetheless. The words washed over Kyungsoo, and as much as he hated to even think it, Chanyeol's voice was quite relaxing. Neither the soft rush of the stream, nor the gentle rustling of the leaves could hold a candle to the way Chanyeol's voice made him feel.

Before Kyungsoo could fall asleep on the spot, he stopped Chanyeol once they reached the centre of the grove, wherein fireflies had started to dance over the fairy rings littered across the ground.

"Chanyeol, show me what you can do," ordered Kyungsoo abruptly, squinting at the insects flying through the air. They weren't in fact fireflies, but little humanoid creatures with gossamer wings. Fairies, was Kyungsoo's first thought.

"I thought you didn't believe in magic," Chanyeol said in a mocking tone, hands resting on his hips in fake haughtiness.

"Maybe you can change my mind," said Kyungsoo with a wide, playful smile, and judging from Chanyeol's raised eyebrows, it wasn't an expected response. A group of fairies had fluttered over to Kyungsoo's shoulder, tickling his ears and neck with the beat of their shimmering wings.

"Right then! Watch and be amazed!" said Chanyeol, returning Kyungsoo's smile with his own.

While Kyungsoo sat at the base of a nearby tree, Chanyeol curled and uncurled his long fingers, taking in deep breaths as if he was about to run a marathon. Whether it was the trick of the light or exhaustion, Kyungsoo swore he had seen Chanyeol's expression turn uncharacteristically serious, pressed lips telling of an immense concentration.

Chanyeol extended his hands, palms outward and fingers loose, like he was praying to a deity. Through hooded eyes, Kyungsoo could see tendrils of smoke rising from the tips of his nails. His conversation with Mrs. Park rang in his head as solid embers started emerging from the gas.

_I may be biased as a mother, but he's incredibly talented._

The smoke spread, snaking through the air, even weaving through Kyungsoo's hair, and to his surprise, it wasn't unpleasant at all. Perhaps even Kyungsoo's nose had grown tired, but the smell of freshly mown grass, barbecues at noon and ripe strawberries in the field seemed to fill the grove. He could smell summer in the smoke.

_It's only for a year._

As if there was a lighter at his fingertips, Chanyeol ignited the gas with a click. The fairies didn't fly away in fear. They, much like Kyungsoo, watched in awe.

Vibrant flames, as energetic as their creator, burst into existence, blanketing the grass and the bark, but never burning. They were gentle, warm in their embrace, fiery in their love to touch and lick, but never burning.

_Give him a chance._

The flames, a myriad of reds and oranges, grazed Kyungsoo's cheek. It wasn't hot, it didn't scathe him, but instead, it lulled him into a comfortable state of half-asleep, half-awake. Through the bold lights, Kyungsoo could see Chanyeol staring at him, waiting for approval, eyes brimming with joy.

Kyungsoo smiled, a thumbs up before he could fall into a slumber. Chanyeol laughed, letting his creation vigorously envelop the grounds with a final flourish of his fingers.

_Who knows what both of you will achieve?_

 


	4. Abyssinian IV

Once the flames had died down and the fairies carried on their merry way, Chanyeol sat down by Kyungsoo, who was curled up into a ball against the trunk of a large oak, his head resting on his folded arms.

Chanyeol tapped on Kyungsoo's crown, hoping to somehow wake the boy. Against the pad of his finger, the soft mess of Kyungsoo's hair bounced back, still warm from the fire's touch.  When there was no response other than a grunt, Chanyeol snorted a laugh, stopping the incessant prodding out of kindness.

Beyond the grove's edge, the Carnival had died down considerably, though the strings of warm-toned paper lanterns still shone brightly in contrast to the waning liveliness. It was a common sight for Chanyeol; his childhood had, after all, been spent in the grove, on Morford Hill, and in the comfort of the Carnival's homely atmosphere. Even a decade later, he'd still fondly recall the memories of him and Sehun playing in the sparse underbrush by the stream, carefree as any child should've been.

Chanyeol held his right hand up against the view, palm inwards. Old scars, thin and white, striped his palm, each one illuminated by the glow of the distance lights. He chewed on his bottom lip, frowning. The scars too were a common sight.

"Maybe if you stopped looking at them, you wouldn't be so upset."

"Holy _fuck_ you scared me," exclaimed Chanyeol, jolting in surprise as a figure suddenly materialised in front of him, wearing a pleased grin. "Jongin, can't you _walk_ to places like a normal person? Stop appearing out of nowhere, you'll give me a heart attack one of these days."

Jongin raised a questioning eyebrow, whilst fishing out an object from his pocket. "Hey, if you can make a firestorm in the middle of the woods, why can't I teleport as I please? Saw it from a mile away, by the way, the kids were all scared."

"They'll get over it," said Chanyeol offhandedly, catching the wrapped confectioneries Jongin threw his way. "Where's Sehun?"

On the striped packaging, the logo of Jongin's family bakery was stamped, but Chanyeol was far more concerned with the chocolate petit fours hidden inside. No one could beat Grandma Kim's baking.

"He's passed out at my family's stall. Idiot didn't know that the punch was alcoholic," said Jongin, guffawing as Chanyeol devoured the cakes like there was no tomorrow. "And is that Kyungsoo?"

"Argh I told Sehun not to tell anyone, goddammit," groaned Chanyeol, his cheeks stuffed with food. He handed Jongin the last cake, which just so happened to be the smallest one. "Yeah, that's Kyungsoo. Y'know, he's probably the first person to ever fall asleep in the middle of a fire storm."

With the paper crumpled in his hand, Chanyeol burnt it to ashes, letting the grey particulates drift away.

"Maybe he'll be the first person ever to be your partner for more than an hour," said Jongin, taking a bite of the petit four that Chanyeol had so graciously shared. "I know I always say this, but I'm sorry that I couldn't be yours."

"Nah, Sehun asked first, it was only fair," Chanyeol said, waving Jongin's worries off. "And I didn't want you getting hurt like the others."

"Do you think Kyungsoo will be able to handle a blood pact with you? Last time I checked, the magic potency of your blood knocked someone out."

Chanyeol side-eyed his palm again. With a sigh, Jongin bent down and placed a bag of bonbons in Chanyeol's hand, covering the scars with powdered pink sweets and sparkly paper.

"My mum thinks he can. She's usually right, well, that's what my dad says anyway," said Chanyeol with a shrug, stuffing the packet into his pocket. Beside him, Kyungsoo stirred in his sleep, head inclined against the crook of his elbow. "Could you help me bring him back to the Providence?"

"I can only teleport myself-"

Chanyeol shook his head, "I mean, carry him. Like, I'd die if I carried anyone by myself for more than three metres."

"Err…broomstick?" Jongin stated matter-of-factly, earning him another fervent head shake.

"He'd fall off, now come on."

As they slung one of Kyungsoo's arms around each of their shoulders, Chanyeol could see the long, solitary scar on Jongin's palm, stretching from corner to corner. Unlike Chanyeol's short, numerous marks, the deep cut had a certain confidence about it. Like it belonged there, like it was made with the intention of never fading.

He knew that Jongin took pride in it, it was a symbol of his and Sehun's partnership after all. Despite how often Jongin apologised to him, it was fairly obvious to Chanyeol that the younger boy wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Aside from the alarmed looks of passersby, Jongin and Chanyeol carried Kyungsoo along the periphery of the Carnival and into its centre without incident. Bordered by unkempt long grass, there stood a coppiced blackthorn, its unusually wide stump flat and enclosed by interwoven young stems, a shape resembling that of a cage.

"Why don't we just carry on walking? The borders of the Providence are still open," said Jongin, helping Chanyeol set Kyungsoo down by the tree. "We'll hit Morborough Court if we keep going forward, won't we?"

"Yeah, but we'll be cutting it pretty close. There's only-" Chanyeol reached down to take Kyungsoo's pocket watch, tucked in the blazer he still hadn't changed out of. "-only fifteen minutes until the borders reform completely. I don't want to get caught up in that and end up in Limbo _again_ Jongin."

"Who knows, it might be fun. You, me, this guy, fighting off witches, fighting off huge-ass monsters-"

"-almost bleeding to death because of said huge-ass monsters. No. Your grandmother's going to literally kill me if I put you in danger again," Chanyeol said firmly, returning Kyungsoo's pocket watch. There was something familiar about the image etched on the cover, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Okay fine, be boring then," Jongin said, pulling a face as he touched the blackthorn's bark.

The stems unwound like a length of frayed rope untwining, opening up the caged interior to the trio. On the surface of the stump, a magic circle was engraved; it radiated a bluish glow as Jongin stepped on, followed by Chanyeol with Kyungsoo's body thrown over his shoulder.

"I wonder why he's so tired," Jongin remarked, to which Chanyeol replied with a shrug. Around them, the stems tangled once more, weaving around each other like a nest of brown snakes.

There was no extravagant display; the space was emptied of its passengers as brusquely as the owls that fled at the sudden disturbance of their home.

Those who frequented Sage's Wood knew to avoid the coppiced blackthorn in the vicinity of Morborough Court's grounds, for the tales from their parents had warned them of the consequences if one were to draw too close.

Their spindly stems, akin to a spider's legs, would unravel and wrap themselves around an unsuspecting child, trapping him or her inside the tree for a witch in search of a sacrifice. But those tales were only tales.

Under the gaze of the early morning moon, the trio emerged in the confines of the tree, which opened up to allow them passage into the Providence. After half an hour of trying to navigate through Sage's Wood, thanks to Chanyeol and Jongin's poor sense of direction, they reached Sallowthorn dorm.

"So what now? Are you going to stick around until he says yes?" Jongin whispered, preparing to teleport into Kyungsoo's room, the window of which was still ajar.

Kyungsoo, who had been propped up against the wall, slowly opened his eyes, his bones clicking as he began to move. "Are we back yet?" he muttered, squinting through puffy, bloodshot eyes.

Chanyeol grimaced at the sight of Kyungsoo's exhausted demeanour, bewildered as to how he had been drained of energy so quickly. "Yeah, my friend Jongin's with me. We'll help you get back up to your room," Chanyeol replied, kneeling beside Kyungsoo, who shook his head.

"No, I'll go up by myself. _You_ need to rest, there's Mass at eight, so no sleeping in," said Kyungsoo sternly, giving Jongin a nod of acknowledgement as he rose to his feet unsteadily.

"You look half-dead." Chanyeol held onto Kyungsoo's shoulder, noting how pale the smaller boy's complexion had grown.

"I'll be fine," Kyungsoo said, shrugging Chanyeol's hand off. Though he chalked it up to his imagination, Chanyeol swore had seen Kyungsoo's eyes turn a pallid blue.

Using the wall of the building as a support, Kyungsoo trudged over to the entrance, leaving Chanyeol and Jongin to watch his figure disappear into the darkness.

"I don't think he's fine," Jongin said under his breath.

Rolling his eyes, Chanyeol said with a tut, "I can see that."

\---

When dawn finally came, Chanyeol was already awake, having spent a total of two hours sleeping and one hour trying to find the coolest, least muggy spot on his bed. On his bedside table, bundles of confectioneries were strewn about, courtesy of Jongin's goodwill and drive to fatten up the Park brothers with every baked good under the sun.

Chanyeol blamed Jongin entirely for Sehun's sweet-tooth, but he had little room to complain, considering how the Kim family's fudge was his lifeblood.

After getting changed into his uniform, which doubled as his Sunday best, Chanyeol hopped down the stairs to the common area, where Jongdae was sat, idly watching a recording of a football match.

"Jongdae, do you always get up this early?" asked Chanyeol, taking a seat beside the boy, who greeted him with a cheery smile.

"Yep. I normally ask Professor Zhang to record any football matches I miss during the day, and I only have time to watch them in the morning," replied Jongdae, balancing the remote on the sofa's armrest.

Chanyeol made a small sound, having remembered parts of the previous day's events, "Kyungsoo said that you were meant to help him unpack."

"Did he? Oops," said Jongdae flatly, far more concerned with what was happening on the television screen. "Couldn't go anyway, I was volunteering at the animal shelter down the road."

"You didn't tell him? He seemed pretty annoyed that you didn't show up," Chanyeol chuckled, recalling Kyungsoo's displeased expression.

"I've got appearances to keep. I don't want Kyungsoo to think I'm _too_ soft," replied Jongdae, practically dancing in his seat once Chelsea scored a goal, "And he only gets annoyed when I _actually_ help him with anything."

"Yeah, he's like that isn't he?" From behind the circle of seats, Baekhyun chimed in, vaulting over the back of the sofa to plant himself between Jongdae and Chanyeol.

"Well my morning's been ruined," said Jongdae dryly, pausing the football game as he stood up to leave. Without missing a beat, Baekhyun stuck out his leg, causing Jongdae to trip up and lose balance.

Before he could fall backwards, Jongdae pushed his elbow down, stabbing Baekhyun's stomach as he landed back onto the sofa.

" _Fuck_ ," groaned Baekhyun, wheezing in agony while Jongdae fell about laughing. "Chanyeol I think I'm dying. Call the ambulance, something's bleeding."

"Karma, Baek," said Chanyeol, freeing himself of Baekhyun, who was attempting to escape Jongdae's chokehold.

As Chanyeol left for the door, Baekhyun dramatically tried to reach out for him, face twisted in pain, "No, Chanyeol! Arrgh don't leave me."

Jongdae's melodic laughter rang louder, until it was the only thing Chanyeol could hear as he closed the front door behind him.

Outside Hawthorn dorm, the sun could be seen peeking over the horizon, painting the school fields and rooftops a vibrant orange. In the silence of the morning, the echoes of Chanyeol's footsteps rang while he walked across the dorm's courtyard, whistling with a spring in his step.

Those footsteps were soon replaced by the padded tapping of paws, an unnoticed change on the empty grounds. When his whistle became the ringing of a cat's bell, Chanyeol set off, bounding over the pavement to Sallowthorn dorm.

Chanyeol clambered up the wall leading to Kyungsoo's open window, defying gravity like any other magical cat. Without a warning, he jumped into the room, landing square on Kyungsoo's sleeping face.

"At least have the courtesy to knock, Chanyeol," mumbled Kyungsoo, prying the cat off him. His irritated expression soon softened as he lifted Chanyeol up, a change which the hybrid had had hoped for, "…Damn you for being cute."

With Kyungsoo's face in view, Chanyeol could see the boy's dishevelled appearance, as if he had just been dragged through hell and back. His eyes were still bloodshot, telling of a lack of sleep, despite having unintentionally taken a twelve hour nap the day before.

"Chanyeol, I thought about it. I'll do it," Kyungsoo said hoarsely, a look of determination on his face. He put Chanyeol down at the foot of the bed, and sat up cross-legged, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a yawn.

Chanyeol shape-shifted into his human form, stretching out his limbs over Kyungsoo's sheets. "Well that was quick. I was expecting to have to wait for at least a month for an answer," he remarked in surprise.

"This is going to sound weird, but… I don't know, I just felt like I needed to do this," said Kyungsoo, massaging his temples. From what Chanyeol could see, his skin was still awfully pale, translucent enough for branches of veins to be visible. "It's a bit irrational, I know, but I can't shake the feeling off. It's driving me insane."

"Might just be an after effect of travelling to the Voyance for the first time. Or not. Don't take my word for it," Chanyeol suggested, eyebrows furrowed in worry. However, his concern didn't last long; from his sleeve, he drew out a short sword, its blade inlaid with gold characters, "Okay, let's start."

"Do you always just carry a sword around with you?" asked Kyungsoo, eyeing the weapon warily.

"Hell yeah, it's awesome," said Chanyeol as he spun the sword around his hand, swinging the red tassel tied to its hilt. "It's a concealable  _saingeom_ , passed down my family for who knows how long. I'm just fulfilling its purpose by, well, concealing it."

With a look of complete and utter horror, Kyungsoo immediately grabbed Chanyeol's wrist, preventing any further dangerous sword spinning. "I thought the purpose of a sword was to cut things?"

"Which it'll be doing today, so give me your hand."

Sliding closer to Chanyeol, Kyungsoo did as he was told. "What, no chants? No magic circles? No frog's eyes or newt's toes?"

"You mean newt's eyes and frog's toes?" Chanyeol cradled Kyungsoo's hand in his own, the unblemished palm facing outwards, "But yeah, the only thing that needs to happen is for blood to be exchanged."

"Then what?"

"Our partnership is automatically transcribed into Sagewood's records and a count is kept. Once we reach three hundred and sixty five days, then I can leave my magician-in-training status behind," said Chanyeol grandly, pressing the tip of the sword against Kyungsoo's skin. "It's like a one year anniversary gift!"

"And then you become a magician?" asked Kyungsoo, his fingers tensing at the touch of the metal.

"After I graduate from the Academy, yes."

"You seem…a lot less thrilled about this than I expected."

With the blade still connected to Kyungsoo's skin, unmoved, Chanyeol started to dig in the flesh, but abruptly stopped. He quickly added, "I will be, if you don't break the blood pact."

"Why would I?" Kyungsoo gave him an impatient click of the tongue, forcibly taking the sword by its hilt, "I stick to my commitments, Chanyeol."

"I haven't told you, but my bl-" said Chanyeol, mildly surprised. Before he could finish, Kyungsoo sliced his palm without a second thought, creating a thin cut that ran parallel to his wrist. "--bloody hell you just went for it."

"Hurry up, the blood's going to stain the sheets." Kyungsoo returned the sword, gesturing Chanyeol to follow, "Your mum already told me about your problem."

"And you're still going for it?" Most, if not all, the scars on Chanyeol's palm were vertical, making it a somewhat satisfying process to cut through all of them with one horizontal slit to match Kyungsoo's. Of course, the pain was far from satisfying, not that Chanyeol would ever admit it.

"I cut my hand for you, what do you think?" huffed Kyungsoo, placing his palm on top of Chanyeol's. "And if I do end up in hospital or something, I expect daily visits from you."

"Aww, sure-"

"As a cat, obviously."

Sighing in annoyance, Chanyeol squeezed Kyungsoo's hand tightly in retaliation, which was met with a condescending smirk from the prefect. Upon realising his mistake, Chanyeol opened his mouth to apologise, but yelped pathetically once the strength of Kyungsoo's grip increased to bone crushing levels.

When Kyungsoo finally let up on his revenge, Chanyeol wiped the tears of pain from his eyes, laughing at himself. Their hands were clasped together, blood seeping into each other's wounds.

"What exactly was it that made you want to do this?" asked Chanyeol, wedging a tissue Kyungsoo pulled from his drawer between the edges of their palms.

"Last night, when I fell asleep, I had a dream," Kyungsoo replied, piling on more tissues. "I can't even remember what happened, but when I woke outside the dorm, it felt like I had seen something…messed up. You know when you see gore for the first time? That feeling, minus the actual experience of seeing it."

"And that drove you to wanting to become my partner, _how_?"

"It seemed like the right thing to do," said Kyungsoo with knitted eyebrows, as if he himself was unsure of the answer. "Like I _needed_ to do it."

"…Right." After another minute, Chanyeol pulled his hand away, staring down at the gash on his palm. It was deep, much deeper than any other cut he had made before. He hoped it wasn't in vain.

Silently examining his own hand, Kyungsoo meticulously cleaned the wound, seemingly unharmed by the power of Chanyeol's blood. In fact, it was as if his condition had greatly improved: the life had returned to his fatigued eyes, along with the colour in his cheeks and steadiness in his breathing. Kyungsoo looked less like a rigid corpse, and more like his usual, slightly less rigid self.

Chanyeol chose not to make a comment, in fear of jinxing it and somehow sending Kyungsoo into a coma.

\---

While Kyungsoo changed into his uniform, Chanyeol lazed around on the bed, finding the air there much more tolerable than in his own room. Despite Kyungsoo's nagging about crumpled clothes, he mostly left Chanyeol to his own devices, primarily due to the hybrid's constant complaints about being sleep deprived.

After trying, and failing, to find a stash of porn magazines to blackmail Kyungsoo with, Chanyeol resorted to flicking through the books on the bedside table, scrunching his face up at the ridiculously boring content.

"Since I'm in a partnership with you, have I automatically enrolled into Sagewood?" asked Kyungsoo as he tied his tie while pacing around the room, tidying up after Chanyeol's snooping.

"Yeah, you'll get the letter soon," said Chanyeol, flopping over the side of the bed with a comic book in his bandaged hand. "In the meantime, you have the privilege of spending time with the great, oh wonderful me."

Kyungsoo sat beside Chanyeol, jolting the boy accidentally on purpose, as he slipped on his socks and shoes, "You say that like it’s a good thing."

"Don't deny me, Kyungsoo. You know you love me," Chanyeol teased, plucking out the pocket watch from Kyungsoo's blazer pocket to check the time. He inspected it once more, taking note of the design: an etched circle, divided into quarters. Chanyeol had definitely seen it somewhere before.

"Let's go, Mass starts in fifteen." Kyungsoo retrieved his pocket watch and left for the door, a mildly excited Chanyeol in tow.

In the vicinity of the school grounds, opposite to the neighbouring motorway, a relatively large Anglican church stood with a stone relief of the Royal Arms above its entrance. Chanyeol recalled there being a similar structure at Sagewood, though it was derelict and entirely reclaimed by nature.

Outside the opened doors of the church, students milled about in their uniforms, waiting for their friends from other dorms. The pair skirted around the crowd, as Kyungsoo requested, and stuck close to the verge of the church's land.

"Kyungsoo why are you a Christian?" asked Chanyeol, taking a seat on a low mossy wall bordering the cemetery. "Your mother wasn't, she couldn't have been."

"Neither was my father. It's a choice, let's leave it at that," replied Kyungsoo, tugging on Chanyeol's sleeve in place of a 'Get up'. "Then _you_ aren't Christian either, I'm guessing. Sorry, I should've asked."

"Don't worry about it, I've always wanted to see what Mass was like." Trailing behind Kyungsoo, Chanyeol strolled into the church, empty of any other students, and immediately made his way to the font. He peered into the carved stone basin, leaning over the edge curiously.

"Oooh is that holy water?" he asked, turning to Kyungsoo with eyes bright in wonderment. "Y'know, we use the same stuff against invading demons or witches."

After pulling Chanyeol back by his collar, Kyungsoo threw a glance at the still liquid, its surface reflecting his image. "What's the difference between a witch and magician? You don't seem very friendly with them."

"Not much really, just a difference in interests and powers," Chanyeol said matter-of-factly as he followed Kyungsoo's line of sight. "Witches _were_ originally heretics from the Providence, ones that made a pact with the Devil."

"What does that make magicians?"

"…huh. Dunno." Chanyeol squinted his eyes at Kyungsoo's reflection. Light blue irises seemed to stare back, but were gone with a blink. "The school doesn't teach us a lot about our origins for some reason. What I _do_ know is that we came from the Providence as well."

"So if a witch enters this church, would they spontaneously combust?" asked Kyungsoo who was transfixed by the water, as if he had seen the same change as Chanyeol.

"No, but that'd be pretty cool. All you need to do is splash some holy water- " Dipping a finger into the clear liquid, Chanyeol playfully flicked it towards Kyungsoo, the droplets landing on his cheek, "-and they burn."

Clicking his tongue in displeasure, Kyungsoo wiped the water off with his handkerchief as he threw Chanyeol a warning glare, which was met with a pout and an attempt at puppy dog eyes. "Are you trying to be cute?"

"This is how I normally look," said Chanyeol with feigned ignorance, seating himself at the nearest pew.

Behind them, numerous students filed in, each one in their neatly pressed shirts and primly aligned ties; much like in school, they congregated into their individual groups, claiming and saving seats for their friends as was the usual affair.

Kyungsoo sidled beside Chanyeol, leaving a space beside him for Jongdae.

The church bells rang, its chimes reverberating in the building and hushing the conversations of the hundred or so boys. Hymn books were opened in unison, the first chord on the organ played and soon voices singing Latin filled the air.

Mimicking the actions of his peers, Chanyeol sang for the sake of singing, unsure of the meaning behind the words leaving his mouth. Next to him, Chanyeol heard the smooth, resonant voice of a tenor, richer than any he had heard before. It belonged to Kyungsoo, if the familiar tone was any indication.

Pleasantly surprised, Chanyeol turned to his partner.

Piercing blue irises stared up at him, glossed by tears that welled in its owner's eyes. Kyungsoo's face was twisted in a look of pure agony, but he remained silent, even as smoke rose from his cheeks.

Even as his skin started to char where the holy water had touched him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: fml D.O.'s a tenor not a baritone; I saw Chanyeol in the sentence and I wrote baritone OTL


	5. Witches' Sabbath I

The final note of _Gloria_ was played, accompanied by the reverberations of the boys' voices as the hum of the _Amen_ filled the church. In the silence that followed, a hymn book fell to the floor with a thud. A hasty exit and a trail of smoke; few eyes followed but most ignored the disturbance.

Chanyeol held onto Kyungsoo's wrist as they left the building, not a word exchanged between the two. Under the shade of a nearby tree, their footsteps stopped. Chanyeol let go, his expression stiff as Kyungsoo rubbed his sore wrist.

A smattering of small pinkish dots lined Kyungsoo's cheekbone, the charred skin having cracked and fallen off.

"Show me your powers," Chanyeol ordered, voice low. He kept a hand near his sleeve, the red tassel of his sword already visible.

"Here? The church is right there," said Kyungsoo, watching Chanyeol's movements warily. The navy-clad backs of the Morborough students were in the periphery of his vision, not a single one turned.

Chanyeol drew his sword quietly, the etched characters on its blade glinting in the light as it left his sleeve. "Don't worry about that, just show me your powers."

Exasperated, Kyungsoo shook his head, "I can't, I don't know how."

"Look at that pebble. Try and imagine it as a frog," said Chanyeol, pointing at the object with his sword. "Really _really_ try."

Kyungsoo stared at the pebble a metre away from Chanyeol, trying his hardest to imagine it sprouting legs and croaking. Upon realising that his imagination was appalling and all he saw was a harmless rock, Kyungsoo threw his hands up with a heavy sigh.

_Crack_

"Nothing," said Chanyeol flatly, returning the sword to the confines of his blazer. He scratched his head dumbfoundedly, any semblance of seriousness all but gone. "Err...did you by any chance hear the Devil talking to you?"

"Oh yeah because I know what the Devil sounds like," deadpanned Kyungsoo. "Of course not!"

"Let's try something easier, _move_ that pebble. With your mind."

"Am I meant to hear the Devil? I don't think the pastor would be happy with me listening to Satan," said Kyungsoo, throwing a cursory glance at the church. "And can we do something about my burns first?"

From under his shirt, Chanyeol pulled out a silver-chained necklace, to which a minuscule corked bottle was attached. Scrawled on the side were the words 'Burn Salve', partially smudged and stained yellow by the oil.

"Do you burn yourself a lot?" asked Kyungsoo while Chanyeol unscrewed the cork and daubed his fingers with the salve. Like his flames in the grove, it too smelled of summer days.

"No. Mostly other people, by accident of course," Chanyeol replied, dabbing the viscous liquid onto Kyungsoo's burns. "Sehun was one of them. I keep a salve nearby just in case."

Choosing not to press Chanyeol further on about the matter, Kyungsoo stayed still while the substance seeped into his skin, sighing in relief when the pain became nothing more than a tingle. As Chanyeol closed the bottle, Kyungsoo pulled out his pocket watch, eyeing his reflection on its finely polished surface.

"Okay, move that pe-- that watch, where'd you get it from? I've seen that symbol before."

"My dad. He gave it to me before he ran off to Canada with his girlfriend." Kyungsoo stuffed the watch back into his pocket when Chanyeol raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"And you kept it?"

"It's useful, whatever the memories behind it are," said Kyungsoo with an apathetic shrug. He looked - or rather, glared menacingly - at the stone again, "That pebble isn't moving no matter how hard I try."

_Crack_

"Weird. Witches _should_ hear the Devil's voice when they use their powers." Chanyeol stuck his tongue out in thought, "I need to check the textbook."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Kyungsoo asked, "Is that what this is about? Are you saying that I'm a witch?"

"It's a hunch, y'know, 'cause you got burnt," Chanyeol said, poking Kyungsoo's cheek, the burns on which were already fully healed. "Have you made any deals with the Devil lately? And somehow forgot?"

"Yes, Chanyeol, yes I did."

"Is that sarcasm?" Chanyeol narrowed his eyes, to which Kyungsoo cocked a brow, "Nevermind, it probably was."

Not being one to give up, Chanyeol picked up the pebble and held it out towards Kyungsoo, "One more time. This time, make it vibrate."

"It won't-"

_Crack_

Kyungsoo felt a scorching heat near his hip; he quickly took off his blazer, finding that smoke was rising from it. Suddenly, shards of glass cut through the pocket. Fragments of cogs, clock hands and a metal body shot out into the air, tearing apart the fabric as they left. Around the two boys' feet, the gravel and pebbles skittered, before violently exploding like firecrackers.

"Woah." Despite the debris flying about the place, Chanyeol watched in awe. Beside him, Kyungsoo lurched over, spluttering and gagging, "Crap are you okay?"

Black liquid stained Kyungsoo's lips; it poured from his mouth, pooling on the floor, thick and heavy like lava. It smelled like sulphur and ash, like the calderas Chanyeol had chanced by on his many adventures with Jongin and Sehun.

"My...lungs," Kyungsoo wheezed, clutching his chest. With every laboured breath a cloud of smoke emerged, each one darker than the last. "Can't...breathe."

Kyungsoo felt his knees buckle and his body sway. Chanyeol's arms wrapped around him, but darkness soon clouded his vision, as suffocating as whatever was broiling in his body.

For a moment, there was nothing but black, cold and uninviting. Kyungsoo couldn't feel anything except the icy air enveloping him. However, he could hear.

He could hear whispers. A hushed voice, low and almost unintelligible. But familiar. Telling him familiar things, telling him horrid, twisted, familiar things.

"Open your mouth wide, wider and wider."

"I'm hungry."

" _He's delicious_."

When Kyungsoo's eyes fluttered open, the ground stared back at him. His teeth were sunken into something soft, like flesh. It _was_ flesh.

Shocked, Kyungsoo instantly pulled back, only to find Chanyeol beneath him, pinned down by the shoulders. His face was contorted in pain, head tilted to the side to expose the entire length of his neck: bite marks ran from the base of his skull down to his collarbone, the shirt which covered it having been violently ripped open.

"Kyungsoo what the hell are you doing?" Behind them, Jongdae appeared, his eyebrows furrowed. Upon catching sight of Chanyeol, he grimaced and drew closer to Kyungsoo, "I don't want to judge, but I'm judging you so hard right now."

"F-fuck this hurts," Chanyeol groaned, rubbing his neck. Tears were welling up in his eyes. Still speechless, Kyungsoo rose to his feet and backed away while Jongdae quickly knelt down beside Chanyeol, examining his wounds.

"Jesus Christ you're bleeding," said Jongdae, wiping the blood-smeared skin with his handkerchief. He craned his neck up to look at Kyungsoo, "What were you two doing?"

"I-I don't know," Kyungsoo said quietly. His hands were trembling. Without another word, he turned on his heels and ran.

Jongdae called out to him, but he kept going, wiping a dribble of Chanyeol's blood from his chin. A vile, bitter taste started crawling up his throat.

Kyungsoo stopped at the lychgate of the church, its thatched roof sheltering him from the sun. Chanyeol and Jongdae were no longer in sight, leaving only the rows of graves for company. Beady-eyed ravens observed Kyungsoo from the trees, watching the boy lean against the oak framework. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to withstand the pounding in his head, as if his blood was knocking on his skull.

He sat on the recessed stone bench, a hand covering his mouth. Kyungsoo coughed hoarsely; black liquid was expelled from between his fingers, splattering on the floor. With a hiss, it evaporated until nothing, not even a stain, was left.

While Kyungsoo chewed his lower lip, tapping his foot nervously as he contemplated how to face Chanyeol, a silhouette formed on the cobbled floor.

"Why'd you run away?" said Chanyeol breathlessly, his collar stained with blood. He had buttoned his blazer up, covering his tattered shirt. "I told Jongdae you were climbing up a tree and fell on me."

"And he believed you?"

"Hah, no." Chanyeol snorted, sitting down beside Kyungsoo, "I told him you were into some weird shit and I was just being a good friend by helping you out."

"Chanyeol!" Kyungsoo shoved him and prepared his fists for a flurry of punches, only to remember that he'd already done enough damage for one day.

"I'm kidding. He didn't ask, but he did do this-" Chanyeol pointed at the layers of plasters on his neck. "But seriously, why did you run away?

"If you haven't noticed, I tried to eat you," said Kyungsoo drily, keeping his head down as he twiddled with the strands of his fringe.

"That _was_ a bit odd," remarked Chanyeol, lolling his head to the side. He hummed in thought; Kyungsoo waited for an answer, the anxiety forming knots in his stomach, "Hey let's get McDonald's."

Kyungsoo shoved him harder, injuries be damned, "Aren't you in the least bit worried? Or scared? I repeat, I tried to _eat you_."

"I've met a lot of people Kyungsoo, some of them weren't even human. Some of them were even bitier than _you_ ," said Chanyeol through a breathy laugh, the lack of concern only serving to further irritate Kyungsoo. "So no, I'm not worried."

" _I_ am!" exclaimed Kyungsoo, abruptly rising to his feet. "My blazer got ripped apart because of whatever happened. Do you know how expensive the uniform is?"

"I see you've got your priorities sorted out," Chanyeol said, lazily slumping against the wall while Kyungsoo paced across the floor, fretting over his scorched uniform.

"And my pocket watch was obliterated, I use that thing everyday," Kyungsoo said bitterly, examining the tears on his sleeve.

"Oh here. Most of the cover survived." Chanyeol held the pocket watch's cover, balancing it between his thumb and finger. "But do you mind if I take it with me? I'm curious about the symbol on it."

"Go for it, I don't want it," Kyungsoo said flatly as he glanced at the blackened cover one last time.

"Thanks. So...McDonald's? The big M, Maccy D's, M to the C-"

"Chanyeol you need to know. When. To. Stop."

\---

When Chanyeol decided to leave for the Voyance, Kyungsoo tagged along to say his goodbyes at the west wing's gate. Although the clock tower had yet to strike ten, the sports teams were already kitted up in their uniforms and preparing for practice sessions in their respective areas, Kyungsoo being one of them.

"Skip practice and sleep. You look like a ghost," said Chanyeol, unlocking the padlocked gate with a twirl of his finger.

Kyungsoo's face had gone pale again, the grey tones in his skin having grown more prominent. Despite his haggard appearance, Kyungsoo shook his head fervently. "I'm competing in a regatta in a few weeks, I can't afford to miss practice," he mumbled.

"Don't push yourself too hard, okay?" said Chanyeol as the gate swung open. "I'll be back later with some answers."

"Mm. Bye." Kyungsoo yawned, shuddering off the tiredness. He gave Chanyeol a half-hearted wave before trudging back to the arcade.

"And don't eat anyone!" Chanyeol called out jokingly. As he entered the woodland, the loose chains rewound themselves and shut the gate, closing off the yard once again.

"Yeah, I'll try not to."

Through the gaps in the iron fence, Kyungsoo's figure grew smaller, before disappearing behind the hill beyond the arcade.

Chanyeol's throat tightened, his smile fading.

Morborough Court eventually became obscured by woodland as Chanyeol made his way to the centre of Sage's Wood, where the coppiced blackthorn resided.

A stray branch scratched Chanyeol during his short trek; he hissed, staggering backwards as he held a hand to his neck. Perhaps it was an overreaction that he started tearing up, despite being barely grazed. Perhaps it was also an overreaction that Chanyeol slammed a fist into a nearby tree, his nose twitching as he tried to stop himself from practically bawling on the woodland floor.

The wounds on his neck were sore, the feel of Kyungsoo's teeth still lingered along with the pain. The unmistakable sensation of flesh being clawed at remained on his shoulders, on his collarbone, on the nape of his neck. Though Chanyeol had changed into a new shirt, whenever he looked down, vivid memories of Kyungsoo shredding it apart came back to him.

In truth, Chanyeol was terrified.

By the age of seventeen, Chanyeol had come across and fought off headless horsemen, gargantuan hounds the size of pine trees, and cannibalistic mermaids, all of which were textbook nightmare fuel. But one look from Kyungsoo, that one vacant stare when the prefect had restrained him, was enough to dismantle years of amassed confidence in his abilities. For once, Chanyeol felt like _he_ was the prey.

He held back his tears, berated himself for being 'pathetic', and continued on his way as if nothing happened, albeit a little more dazed than usual.  _A magician needs a thick skin_ , Chanyeol would tell himself, _they don't cry._

_You're too emotional,_ his teachers would tell him, _A magician is calm and collected._        

_You're a man, suck it up,_  his classmates would tell him. Chanyeol hated that one the most. He'd hear it all the time as a kid, until he singed their hair and burnt their school desks. All by accident, of course.

A fifteen minute walk later, Chanyeol found himself sitting in the headmistress' office with a bowl of biscuits before him. Whether or not it was to distract him while his mother worked, Chanyeol couldn't tell.

Mrs. Park dutifully read over piles of documents at her desk, nodding and uttering the occasional feedback as her son chattered away, oblivious to his mother's lack of interest.

"Mum, do you know what this symbol means?" Chanyeol slid the metal disk of a cover towards Mrs. Park, who had taken a brief tea break.

"Depends on who it came from," she said, setting down her tea cup to inspect the object. "Were they magicless?"

"No, and it came with a pocket watch."

_"Ah,_ then it's a solar cross. Each quadrant represents a season, and each point is a solstice or equinox," Mrs. Park explained, tapping on the etched design, the indentations of which were caked with soot. "Back when pocket watches were popular, this design was on almost all of them."

"Oh. So it isn't anything special." Chanyeol frowned, finding the revelation a little too underwhelming.

"I wouldn't say that. This symbol is present in a great many cultures," Mrs. Park said, returning the disk to her son. "Even witches in Limbo use this symbol in the same way magicians interpret it."

"Witches?" Chanyeol blurted out. He immediately clamped his mouth shut, to which his mother raised an eyebrow.

Steam rising from the tea furled over itself as Mrs. Park asked, "What about witches?"

For a moment, Chanyeol held his tongue while he racked his brain for the best answer; however, the mental gymnastics were short-lived, as his mother started eyeing him oddly. "Random question, but can a witch forget that they're a witch?" he eventually asked, finding the question ambiguous enough to not evoke any concern.

"Of course not. They've given their souls up to the Devil, they can't just _forget_ ," said Mrs. Park matter-of-factly. "Witches aren't born witches. It's a choice. Why do you ask?"

Rings of steam had formed over Mrs. Park's teacup, bobbing in the air calmly; the tension in Chanyeol's shoulders vanished at the lacklustre reaction. "No reason," he said, doing little to conceal his relief. "I think somebody I know is a witch."

"What did you say?"

The wispy rings merged and expanded into a voluminous cloud; the tea in Mrs. Park's cup had diminished greatly, the water having evaporated into billows of steam. Chanyeol gulped; he expected crackles of lightning to start appearing, just like when he had accidentally burnt Sehun.

"Nothing. Nothing at all," said Chanyeol as he slipped out his seat, cursing himself for not being able to shut up. He hurriedly walked to the door. "'kay bye mum, been nice talking to you."

"Park Chanyeol get back here," Mrs. Park ordered, her commanding voice jolting Chanyeol in surprise. Thunder rumbled in the cloud. "Have you befriended a witch?"

Chanyeol reluctantly returned to his seat, nervously pressing his knees together, "No."

"If you're lying to me, I swear-"

"I haven't! Cross my heart."

"Listen to me Chanyeol. Those witches have been fighting us for centuries. Those witches have sacrificed hundreds of our kind's children to the Devil," said Mrs. Park, her tone growing darker. "If you're caught sympathising with a witch, I can't help you. You _will_ be sentenced to death."

"I know mum, I know. He probably wasn't a witch anyway," Chanyeol said dismissively, wafting the steam out of his face; the cloud had collapsed into a thick mist, spreading throughout the office.

"Be careful with the accusations you make Chanyeol." Mrs. Park gave him a warning look while the vapour withdrew back into the tea cup, "An innocent person could be killed."

"Don't worry, I won't be starting any witch hunts any time soon," Chanyeol joked, grabbing a biscuit from the untouched bowl once his surroundings were steam-free.

"Chanyeol I don't think you're taking this very seriously," said Mrs. Park, still wearing a solemn expression. "Do you remember how our neighbour's son died?"

"Oh, James. Abducted by witches, wasn't he?"

"Yes, and then they returned him."

"Really? I haven't seen him-"

"They returned his remains. What was left of his body was nailed to a cross and set alight outside his parents' house." Mrs. Park sat rigidly; there was a sombreness in her gaze, a reflection of experience. Chanyeol stopped mid-bite, letting the biscuit crumble in his dry mouth. "He was stripped of his flesh after they sacrificed him to the Devil."

"They devoured him Chanyeol, picked away at him while his body was still warm," she continued in a level tone; Chanyeol knew it well, he had heard his mother speak that way when addressing mourning parents, when their children were killed in skirmishes with witches or other beasts in the Voyance. "I don't want the same thing to happen to you or Sehun or anybody else."

"Don't worry mum, I'll be careful," said Chanyeol, rising from his seat. He had heard similar stories before, each one more sickening than the last.

Despite the summer heat, he felt an unshakeable cold. The biscuit had been abandoned on a saucer, half-eaten and broken, a result of his lost appetite.

"So for the last time, have you made friends with a witch?"

None of the witches he had encountered showed the same humanity as Kyungsoo, but Chanyeol was unsure if his comparatively lacking experience was enough to say anything for certain.

"No. He isn't a witch."

Mrs. Park pressed her lips into a hard line, and in her silence, Chanyeol wondered how obvious his doubt for his own words was. Eventually, his mother merely nodded and picked up her pen again. Chanyeol took it as a sign to leave.

\---

Noon came quickly, bringing with it the sound of crickets in the brush and heated rugby games on the playing field. As Chanyeol passed by the field, he noticed Baekhyun splayed on the grass in his rugby kit, enclosed by a water bottle fortress. Chanyeol ran over and looked over the boy, unintentionally forming a makeshift parasol with his body.

"Chanyeol, you ass. Why'd you leave me?" asked Baekhyun, whose face was slathered with sunscreen. He tilted his head back to better see Chanyeol and pointed at the faint bruises on his neck, "Look at what Jongdae did. Look!

"You had it coming Baek," chuckled Chanyeol, taking one of the many water bottles on display.

Baekhyun squinted his eyes, before wagging a finger in Chanyeol's direction, "What happened to _your_ neck?"

"Fell out of a tree and landed on the gravel," said Chanyeol nonchalantly, piercing the bottom of the bottle with his teeth. "Nevermind that, have you seen Kyungsoo?"

"Still rowing on the Borswell. He does that every Sunday. Thinks people will take him more seriously if he bulks up." Baekhyun scrunched his nose up in disdain, both at the random squirts of water Chanyeol seemed to be aiming at him and the thought of a buff Kyungsoo.

"He isn't wrong." Chanyeol stopped squirting and proceeded to make a pattern over and around Baekhyun's body, his tongue poking out in concentration, "And Kyungsoo seems to enjoy it a lot."

"Okay, I admit he's not that bad at rowing. I went to one of his competitions in year eight. The bastard and his team beat fifteen other schools for first place," said Baekhyun with a sneer, looking down himself to see what on earth Chanyeol was doing. "You shoulda seen his face, it was the first time I saw Kyungsoo smile. Still gives me nightmares."

"So you two are friends then?" With a flick of his wrist, Chanyeol closed the final point of the pentagram he had been drawing, smiling in satisfaction as he admired his handiwork.

"Um no? Me, him and Jongdae used to hang out, but that was ages ago," said Baekhyun, having given up on trying to make sense of what Chanyeol was doing. "We're not close, if that's what you're assuming."

"You seem close with Jongdae," remarked Chanyeol. Behind his back, he drew symbols in the air. "And by the looks of things, you still want to hang out with him."

Although Baekhyun couldn't see it, the pentagram began to glow, exuding the faintest smell of rotten eggs and questionable substances. Chanyeol smirked, taking delight in the beginnings of his prank; neither Jongin nor Sehun, his usual victims, were there, so he settled for the unassuming Baekhyun.

"I don't want to hang out with Jongdae," huffed Baekhyun. A teasing smile crept onto Chanyeol's lips, " _I don't._ Stop smiling, I don't!"

Baekhyun rolled over and broke the pentagram, the centre of which was on his shirt. Disappointed, Chanyeol gave up on using magic and resigned himself to simply harassing Baekhyun with water again.

"No, no, I understand Baek," said Chanyeol, crouching down beside the boy. "You're playing hard to get. One day, he'll notice you and then-"

"-God you're really good at being annoying." Baekhyun slapped the bottle out of Chanyeol's hand, somehow managing to unscrew the lid and spilling water over the both of them.

" _You_ can talk." Chanyeol stuck his tongue out and picked up the bottle, ready to pour the remaining contents on to Baekhyun's face. He stopped upon catching sight of Jongdae, who was fast approaching them from the main building, "Oh look, here's your beloved."

"Geez, don't make it creepy Chanyeol." Baekhyun rolled his eyes and sat up, kicking the water bottle out of Chanyeol's hand. It landed right in the middle of the rugby game, leading to several extremely displeased glares from the players. "Dae's got a girlfriend."

" _What_."

" _I've_ got a girlfriend."

" _What._ "

"Jokes, I don't have a girlfriend. Not that I want one," said Baekhyun, grinning as if it was an achievement. Chanyeol cocked an eyebrow, the same mischievous smile creeping onto his face again. "I don't. I fucking don’t!"

"Oh, Baekhyun. I was wondering where the inhuman screeching was coming from," said Jongdae as he leant over to rest his hands on Chanyeol's shoulders, pressing the weight of his body on to the taller boy. "My first guess was a dying cat. My second guess was you. Who am I kidding, you were both of my guesses."

"Why are you here?" Baekhyun asked, scowling as Chanyeol started waggling his eyebrows.

"Not for you," replied Jongdae. He shifted his attention downwards and pulled the tip of Chanyeol's ear, "Kyungsoo's in the nurse's office. Professor Zhang told me to tell you."

"See ya." Without wasting another second, Chanyeol clambered to his feet and sprinted over to the main building, leaving behind a trail of trampled grass and crushed daisies in his wake.

Jongdae began to follow Chanyeol, giving not so much as a glance to Baekhyun, who pursed his lips at both of their sudden departures.

"How's Mina? Is she still putting up with you after all these months?" Baekhyun asked with a smirk, not wanting to be so discourteously ignored.

Jongdae stopped in his tracks. Scratching the back of his head, he swerved back around. "We broke up two weeks ago," Jongdae answered flatly.

"Oh," Baekhyun said, thrown off by the response. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's not like _you_ had to know," replied Jongdae with a shrug; Baekhyun opened his mouth for a retort, but closed it again when he found that he had none. "I didn't want to parade around the fact that I was dumped."

"But those couple bracelets, and those anniversary rings you saved up for-"

"She started liking someone else. Can't do much about that, can I?" Jongdae chuckled, trying to laugh it off, though it sounded far more bitter than he had intended.

On the pitch, a commotion erupted. Two bloody-nosed boys trudged off the field, their faces smeared with red, while a small crowd formed in the centre. A second later, a crushed bottle was thrown off to the side; Baekhyun winced, knowing that those injuries were partly - _mostly_ \- his fault.

"Baekhyun get in here!" The Hawthorn captain called out as the two teams resumed their match.

Though it was the first time in weeks that he'd been asked to play, Baekhyun hesitated, "Dae, if you want to talk about it-"

"Baekhyun!" The captain shouted. Twenty-nine pairs of eyes were fixed on Baekhyun, who had yet to look away from Jongdae.

"Don't screw up," were Jongdae's parting words. He continued on his way, hands tucked into his pockets as he strolled back towards the main building.

Baekhyun wondered if Jongdae had always looked that small.

\---

Curtains fluttered against the whitewashed walls of the nurse's office, its sole decoration being a healthy eating poster no one really cared about. At a desk in the corner, Professor Zhang sat with a phone to his ear, "Eunyeong, the seal finally broke. How's the search going? …I understand. Don't worry, I'll continue to watch over him. Stay safe."

As he hung up, the door burst open, revealing a flushed Chanyeol, drenched in sweat, "Professor Zhang! How's Kyungsoo?"

"Exhausted but nothing a nap can't fix," he replied whilst rummaging through the drawer by his feet. Professor Zhang pulled out a towel and threw it in Chanyeol's direction, "By the way, I heard from Sagewood. Congratulations on your new partnership."

"Thanks sir," said Chanyeol, pressing the towel to his face." And my mum says thanks for sorting out my admissions form for Morborough."

"Just doing my job." Professor Zhang stood up and motioned for Chanyeol to take his seat, "It looks like it's time for me tell Kyungsoo."

"That you're the admissions officer for Sagewood and Morborough, or that you're a magician?" asked Chanyeol as he collapsed into the chair, fanning himself with his hand. Without needing to be asked, Professor Zhang held out his hand, an orb of white light forming above its centre; it rose and hovered over to Chanyeol's neck.

"Both."

Chanyeol tore off his plasters, allowing the light to filter into his wounds. The blood vessels on his neck glowed a subdued red, the white having been tinted by the blood's pigment, before the punctures in his skin rapidly closed.

"Good luck with that. He got hella mad when _I_ told him _he_ was a magician," said Chanyeol while he stretched his neck in every direction possible, fascinated by the newfound _painless_ mobility. "It's weird. Why would you not tell your child that they're a magician? Ms. Lee must've had her reasons, but still."

"I have an inkling that you already know one of the answers to your question," Professor Zhang said, perching on the window stool. Chanyeol instantly stopped his neck exercises.

"…He isn't a magician is he?" he asked cautiously. Professor Zhang nodded. "What is he then?"

"Unfortunately, you'll have to wait until Kyungsoo finds out himself."

Laid on the bed in the centre of the room, hidden away behind cubicle curtains, the boy in question stirred, grumbling something incomprehensible.

"What do you mean?" Chanyeol asked, leaning forward slightly to see the source of the noise.

"Kyungsoo's probably told you quite a few things about himself, all of which he wholeheartedly believes to be true," explained Professor Zhang, his attention also turned to Kyungsoo. "I'm sure that he's told you that his parents are divorced and his father is in Canada at the moment."

"And from what you're saying, I assume that his father _isn't_?"

The sound of linen being torn apart filled the momentary pause, followed by loud, drawn out scratching. Chanyeol brandished his _saingeom_ , forgoing all rationality as adrenaline started pumping through his blood. There was something there and, whether or not it was Kyungsoo, it certainly wasn't friendly.

"He's dead. He has been for years now, Chanyeol," Professor Zhang said, remaining unmoved while claws slashed the curtains. "Kyungsoo killed him when he was eleven years old."

 


	6. Witches' Sabbath II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: violence, mild gore

The erratic slashing stopped.

Then came a high-pitched whine.

“What _is_ that?” Before Chanyeol knew it, he was shoved to the floor by Professor Zhang.

His head hit a desk leg as a filing cabinet hurtled through the cubicle curtains, smashing into the wall beside him. At a loss for words, Chanyeol dazedly looked around, only to find another object rocketing his way. In a thunderous cacophony of screeching metal and cracking plaster, the bed followed suit and collided with the cupboards, sending splintered wood and loose sheets flying. Chanyeol rolled over and crawled to his feet, fighting the urge to assume foetal position.

Clouds of debris drifted in the air, slowly settling in the nurse’s office as a brown haze. Professor Zhang was nowhere to be seen. “Sir?” Chanyeol called out, coughing into his sleeve.

His stomach turned, and a wave of dizziness washed over him. He staggered over to the open window, leaning out into the fresh air. Liquid trickled down his cheek and collected at his chin, dripping onto the flowerbed below. Chanyeol touched his forehead, felt the tender flesh and the warmth spreading on his fingers.

He looked down. The daisies were speckled with blood. “Shit.”

Light footsteps sounded behind Chanyeol. The cubicle rails rattled, and he quickly swerved around, reaching for his sword out of instinct. His hand froze at his wrist. It wasn’t there.

Kyungsoo was standing at the cubicle’s periphery, partially obscured by the half-drawn curtains. He raised a hand, and Chanyeol immediately grabbed a nearby pair of scissors. “Don’t move,” he said through gritted teeth, fingers trembling.

Kyungsoo merely stared, his expression blank. He ignored Chanyeol and opened his hand, letting a red tassel slip through his grip. Metal clattered on the tiles, glinting gold and silver. It was Chanyeol’s sword.

Before Chanyeol could make a move, Kyungsoo kicked something at his side, causing it to fall through the curtains. With a hard  _thud_ , Professor Zhang’s body collapsed onto the floor. Several claw marks were on his face, running from his forehead to his jaw. Squinting through the blood, he said with an apologetic smile, “Sorry Chanyeol, I thought it wouldn’t be so bad this time.”

Face scrunched up in pain, he took the sword and swung it at Kyungsoo’s ankles. Chanyeol flinched, dropping the scissors in his shock. But there was no blood. Instead, black liquid poured from Kyungsoo’s wounds, creeping over the tiles in a network of webbed rivulets.

Professor Zhang threw the sword at Chanyeol, who caught it by the hilt, “Go to the headmaster’s office. Tell him-” He was cut off by Kyungsoo, who had pulled him off the floor by his neck.

The dread sank in Chanyeol’s chest. Kyungsoo’s nails were sharp, like talons in the way they looked so ready to pierce flesh, so close to cutting a vein. Disregarding all the warning bells ringing in his head, he flicked a shard of glass at Kyungsoo, “Don’t rag on me about respect when you’ve gone off and attacked your teacher, you crazy bastard.”

Confidence required no effort to fake, a smug grin was easy to wear, yet his breath hitched the minute Kyungsoo let go. A blank stare, devoid of emotion. Chanyeol edged backwards, finally understanding what instant regret felt like.

He hadn’t even blinked, yet a hand was already clutching his throat and slowly, painfully, squeezing it until his lungs constricted from the lack of air. He choked something out in desperation, and attempted to break free when his fists were too weak to punch, when his body was lifted too far off the floor. When those pale blue eyes turned to a blur, and the wall was the last thing he saw.

The impact with the bricks shattered Chanyeol. It turned him into nothing short of broken.

Muted shouts rang all around him, but he could barely hear them over the thrum of his own heartbeat. The pain didn’t come. The numbness was immediate. As Chanyeol’s consciousness began to fade, he mustered the strength to snarl, “You’re a fucking monster.”

\---

Shadows of tree branches shifted on the corridor floor, their shapes melding with Jongdae’s own silhouette. He whistled as he walked, trying to drown out Baekhyun’s words that were playing like a broken record inside his mind. “Talk, my ass,” he scoffed, shaking his head as if the thoughts would just fall out.

Down the corridor, a set of double doors opened and out strode the headmaster, accompanied by a group of men and women, all of whom were wearing greenish-blue capes. Governors, Jongdae assumed - fancily dressed ones at that.

“Block off the nurse’s office,” the headmaster ordered. Jongdae furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he was meant to hear that. Deciding that he  _wasn’t_ , he hid behind a nearby plant stand. “I’ll let Yixing handle the rest. My grandchildren seem to think that they know better than I do.”

“Yes sir,” they all chanted in unison, followed by a synchronised bow. Jongdae had only ever seen it in films, although there were usually heavily tattooed gang members involved - and a lot more blood. Like a regiment of troops, the group marched in the direction of the nurse’s office, their capes fluttering with every step.

Jongdae remembered seeing that colour back in year seven, back when he actually cared about school to the extent he’d willingly remember a random shade of blue-green from that  _one_ art lesson on the colour wheel. “Viridian”, if he recalled correctly.

It was the colour of the stretchers that two boys from Sallowthorn had been carried on, during a particularly cold winter six years prior.

One of them had been found sunken in a snow pile on the field, limbs broken and covered in shards of glass. The other boy was Kyungsoo, who, according to Junmyeon, had collapsed in his dorm room by a shattered window. Both of them had been roommates. Both of them had ended up pulling out of boarding.

It was a mental breakdown on Kyungsoo’s part. The boy himself had later told Jongdae when they were still in that “acquaintance or friend?” phase. Jongdae hadn’t bothered to question it - who would possibly lie about that? However, he never did find out what happened to Kyungsoo’s roommate. Nobody did, really.

“Jongdae!” Minseok called out, standing in the doorway leading to the astroturf. Beside him was Junmyeon, who was decked out in his football gear. “The game’s in five minutes. Whoever’s last on the pitch is buying everyone lunch!”

“We need more creative punishments,” Jongdae muttered, quickening his pace when Minseok began tapping his watch. “Nobody wants to run around the field naked anymore.”

\---

Outside the nurse’s office, two men in police uniforms guarded the door, with the area in their vicinity barred with barricade tape. With a phone to his ear, Professor Zhang appeared from a connecting corridor, absorbed in a conversation. Neither of the two batted an eyelid when he slipped underneath the tape, handed each of them a bottle of water, and said, “Keep up the good work.”

As he entered the room, the pair broke their passivity and bowed, saying in unison, “Thank you, sir.”

Inside, viridian caped men and women milled about the wreckage. Curtains, cupboards and glass jars levitated around them, suspended in a sea of glowing dust. Hinges were straightened, the cracked plaster smoothed out, all done with a few spells and well-timed hand gestures. While the group of caped magicians went about their restoration, Professor Zhang skirted around them and perched on the edge of the newly-fixed desk.

He looked over Chanyeol and Kyungsoo. Side-by-side, both were lying on the floor, as completely out of it as each other. The difference was one was gagged and restrained by enchanted chains, whilst the other was bruised and bleeding, more fragile than a porcelain doll. Several magicians circled Chanyeol, supplying the unconscious boy with a constant stream of healing spells and botanicals.

Professor Zhang edged closer to the open window, catching sight of a nearby rugby game. He winced a little. A boy had been sent flying by someone twice his size. The pity was short-lived, however, for a voice called out from the phone. “Yixing, are you still there?”

“I’ll have to call you back later, Yifan. Send Han and Zitao my regards,” Yixing answered. A click came after a muffled goodbye, and the line went dead. Slipping the phone back into his pocket, he turned to one of the magicians, “How are they?”

Looking over a clipboard, the magician said monotonously, “The taller one’s not on the brink of death anymore. Kyungsoo still hasn’t fully left critical condition.”

A frigid breeze blew past, rustling the blood-spattered daisies. One raindrop hit the glass, followed by several more, until they came down in torrents. Yixing closed the window, and asked, “Memories?”

“The seal broke a while ago, so they should all be there.” Cries of drenched students rose from the field, only to be drowned out by the buzz of magic and moving furniture. The door opened and closed, briefly letting in the thunderous roar of rain pelting the neighbouring courtyard.

“News from the Voyance, sir.” Another magician approached. Much like the rest of them, her expression was harsh, with her lips drawn into a thin line. “From your cousin.”

“Yes, I’ve heard, she called me some time ago,” Yixing said, already used to the magicians’ stiff attitudes. They were his family’s servants, after all. “How did my grandfather take her resignation?”

“He understood her decision,” the magician answered curtly. “He is also rather concerned that both of you allowed the young master a familiar. Surely it would’ve been wiser to return him to normal first, were the master’s words.”

“Perhaps. Chanyeol was sorely in need of a partner. I thought-- ” Yixing’s voice trailed off. Though obstructed by the crowd of healers, he could still see glimpses of Chanyeol’s bloodied face, the bruises on which had already faded.

The magician simply nodded, then turned on her heels. “Before you leave-” She stopped in her tracks, like a soldier being called upon, “-Eunyeong suggested giving the Hwa couple that mansion in Boseong. For taking care of Kyungsoo.”

“Understood. Is there anything else?”

“Send a group to man the blackthorn on Morford Hill,” Yixing ordered, staring at the veil of mist rapidly engulfing the landscape, and the shifting figures of the boys on the field. “Water specialists, in particular.”

While the magician took notes, sweat began to prick the back of Yixing’s neck. The temperature had risen considerably. Pushing open the window again, he asked, “Did one of you turn on the heating? It’s June for goodness’ sake.”

A bowl shattered on the floor, spilling crushed herbs and rose petals. Yixing peered over his servants, feeling the waves of heat sweeping his face. The circle of magicians stepped back warily, with one of them saying, “Sir, the taller one’s awake.”  

A bright orange glow, marbled with reds and yellows, emanated from Chanyeol, whose eyes were wide and restless. He was sat up and edging away from Kyungsoo. One hand was raised, as if he was about to-

_Click_

\---

Scuffed knees, bloodied nose, and a soaked jersey- it wasn’t a good day for Baekhyun. As both rugby teams rushed off the field, he trudged after them, wiping the raindrops streaking his face. The main building was barely visible through the fog and the downpour, with only the lights in the nurse’s office for guidance.

“Idiot didn’t even apologise.” Baekhyun pouted, hissing when he touched his split lip.

Lightning crackled in the brooding clouds as he stepped into the west wing’s arcade, sheltering himself from the onslaught of rain. In the adjacent yard, the alder tree rustled loudly, its thinner branches swaying violently in the wind.

The howling gales rattled the heavy chains of the fence gate, and almost swept Baekhyun off his feet when he stopped at the doorway. He wrung out his shirt; there was no doubt that ones of the prefects would shout his ear off if he was caught in the corridors looking like he’d swam in a marsh.

“Excuse me.” Surprised, Baekhyun spun around. A boy in a raincoat was standing underneath one of the arches, cradling a black cat in his arms. “Do you know someone called Chanyeol?”

Strong gusts of wind carried the boy’s voice elsewhere, making it no louder than a whisper. Baekhyun moved closer, “I can’t hear you-”

In the distance, a deep  _boom_ thundered. Jolting in surprise again, Baekhyun snapped his head towards the field. Though hidden behind the curtain of rain, he could make out billowing clouds of _something_ rising from the main building. A moment later, the shrill ring of the fire alarm sounded, leaving Baekhyun to gape at the plumes of smoke in silence.

The boy sighed, pulling his coat tighter around the cat, “That’s probably him.” Baekhyun definitely heard that. “Sorry for disturbing you.” After mumbling a goodbye, the boy bolted through the rain, his destination looking to be the nurse’s office.

“Hey wait!” Baekhyun called out, breaking out of his daze. The boy turned around, his fringe already matted with water. “That’s probably where the fire is. You shouldn’t go there.”

He smiled, “I wasn’t going to.”

“If you say so,” Baekhyun said dubiously, watching the boy disappear in the midst of the fog and rain. “Seriously, be careful!”

He thought about chasing after him, but he could already feel the rumble of the student body swarming the corridors and heading for the fire exits. Before long, the doors were swung open, and boys started to line up on the playing field in their hundreds.

Baekhyun’s cleats squelched in the mud as he joined the rest of the students, grumbling about wanting a warm shower and a picture of the year eleven who knocked him over to throw darts at. Amidst the complaints of soaked uniforms, he heard murmurs about a fire in the nurse’s office. Baekhyun looked over the dozens of heads surrounding him, squinting through the rain.

A figure was perched on a window in the main building.

\---

“Chanyeol!”

Singed bandages hung off Chanyeol’s limb as he climbed onto the window stool. Behind him, smoke filled the nurse’s office, enveloping the strangers whose clothes he had set ablaze. This time, there were no strawberry-scented memories of summer accompanying the fire. This time, it was the smell of burning flesh. They shrieked and shouted, the flames licking their skin, and ran out of the room in their frenzy.

Yixing had narrowly escaped the brunt of the fiery explosion, and between the coughs, he still managed to give Chanyeol a reproachful look, “They’re the ones who healed you.”

“Then they can heal themselves,” Chanyeol said bitterly, scowling at Kyungsoo, who was unscathed and unbothered by the fire. “Don’t give me this bullshit that he’ll tell me himself. He’ll decapitate me before that ever happens.” He rested his hand on the window frame. Rainwater trickled down his scarred palm. “I’m going home.”

"Don't-"

Chanyeol jumped from the window, crushing the daisies under his feet, and ran.

\---

Wet gravel crunched under Baekhyun’s feet as he ran to the dormitory entrance. Two police officers, who were in the school for whatever reason, had called it an impromptu fire drill. The smoke told otherwise, but that too was dismissed as part of the drill by several caped men - governors, Baekhyun assumed, and stupidly dressed ones at that.

Through the misted windows, he could see Jongdae lounging on the sofa, head tilted back in laughter. For a moment, Baekhyun watched, hand frozen on the door handle. Nevermind how the mud was settling in odd places, or how his hair felt heavier than a soggy fur hat; there was a fuzzy feeling in his chest that was impossible to shake off. “Damn it, I must’ve caught something,” he muttered, opening the door.

“He keeps on slapping my butt,” was the first thing Baekhyun heard upon walking into the entrance hall.

“Your butt _is_ of the slappable variety, Jongdae.” Sat opposite to Jongdae was Junmyeon, sporting a pair of grandfather-esque tartan slippers. “Maybe he’s trying to assert his dominance?”

“What dominance does he need to assert? Minseok’s the captain of the school’s football team,” said Jongdae, exasperated. Baekhyun slowly backed away, knowing all too well where the conversation was heading. “Then again-” A loud, poorly muffled sneeze interrupted. ”-Baekhyun.”

Cursing under his breath, Baekhyun closed the door and, with confidence, said, “It’s my fault.”

“What did you do?” asked Junmyeon, his teacup held to his lips.

Baekhyun plopped down beside Jongdae, who immediately changed seats. Casually wagging his middle finger at Jongdae, Baekhyun said, “I tried out for the football team once.”

“Ah. Makes sense.” 

“Fuck off. I was like the second coming of Messi on that pitch,” Baekhyun snorted and kicked his feet up on the cushions, carefully avoiding the brocaded set Professor Zhang had brought back from China.

Jongdae chimed in, “You were the _only_ one on that pitch. Everyone ran away because you kept on aiming for their balls.”

“I wasn’t aiming. They all just sucked at dodging.” Baekhyun shrugged, then shifted on the sofa, only to topple a vase in the process. He quickly slid down, caught it on his cleats, and whooped in triumph. The other two remained unimpressed. “Anyway, I didn’t know Minseok was older than me. Thought he was a random kid or something.” 

With his hand in a bag of toffee popcorn, Junmyeon asked, “And then?”

Baekhyun laughed dryly, “He started telling me off for putting everyone’s future children in danger.”

“Then Baekhyun said, ‘Wow year seven sex-ed started early this year,’” said Jongdae, flicking a kernel at Baekhyun. “The team’s been teasing Minseok about it ever since. Happily ever after. The end.”

“Still doesn’t explain why he’s slapping your butt though,” said Junmyeon, to which Jongdae hummed in agreement.

At that moment, the front door slammed open, and Chanyeol burst in, draped with loose bandages. He was breathing heavily, visibly shaken. Upon a closer look, Baekhyun noticed tendrils of smoke rising from his body, despite being completely drenched.

“Hi Chanyeol,” said Jongdae, waving. Chanyeol made a beeline for the stairs. “Bye Chanyeol.”

“So that’s Chanyeol? Kyungsoo was looking for him yesterday,” Junmyeon said, straightening his posture at the mention of the name.

Jongdae looked over Junmyeon’s head, trying to follow Chanyeol’s movements, but he had already disappeared into the next floor, “Baek go talk him, he looks upset.”

“Why me?” Baekhyun groaned, his body entering the jelly-like state of pure comfort and laziness. 

“My butt cheeks have already sunken into the cushions. That’s the point of no return.”

With a final indignant grunt, Baekhyun swung his legs off the sofa, pulled a face at Jongdae, and traipsed up the stairs, complaining about a sore back that wasn’t really sore. Upon reaching the second floor, Chanyeol ran past him, carrying his suitcase. “But you just got here!” Baekhyun cried out, blocking him in a starfish position. “I can’t be that bad of a neighbour.”

“You greeted me in your underwear.”

“I wanted to make you comfortable.”

Rolling his eyes, Chanyeol manoeuvred around him, bumping his suitcase against the wall - and Baekhyun -  as he tried to break past the impregnable defence. Baekhyun eventually gave up and moved aside, but that didn’t stop him from harping on about missed opportunities and the _wonders of dorm life_ as Chanyeol made his way downstairs.

“Sorry for leaving like this,” Chanyeol said, addressing the two boys in the common area. “You’ve all been great. I don’t know who you are-” He pointed at Junmyeon, “-but you’re probably great too. So I’d like to say-”

“Someone was looking for you,” Baekhyun interjected, sitting on the suitcase that Chanyeol had set down. “He had a cat.”

Chanyeol clicked his tongue, and pushed Baekhyun off. “Do you know where they went?”

“To the nurse’s office.”

“Oh for the love of--” Thoughts of Kyungsoo came to mind, but those were quickly pushed aside. He was starting to wonder if there was some elaborate plan to have his bones permanently broken. “Thanks.”

“How’s Kyungsoo?” Junmyeon asked, the very question making Chanyeol inwardly groan.

Rubbing the back of his neck in frustration, Chanyeol spat out, “Ask Professor Zhang. He seems to know everything, but’ll tell you fuck all instead.”

“Oof. Calm your tits,” Jongdae said, looking as offended by the remark as the other two. Chanyeol sighed, regretting having said it. “Why so antsy? Were we really that bad?

“Sorry. It’s not your fault, neither is it sir's.” Chanyeol shook his head, feeling the three pairs of eyes searching him for answers, “My brother suffers from chronic diarrhoea so we’re moving closer to a specialist clinic. It’s on the other side of the country. I’m a bit annoyed.” He slipped out of the door, only to abruptly stop at the threshold. “Wait--” He leant back a little, a smirk playing on his lips, “Jongdae, Baekhyun likes you. ‘kay bye.”

The door closed. Junmyeon munched on his popcorn. Baekhyun turned to Jongdae, who raised an eyebrow, “What he means is he’s a shit-stirrer and that was a lie.”

\---

Underneath the alder tree, with its dewed leaves and dampened underwood, stood Jongin with a black cat nestled in his arms. Traces of the rainstorm lingered as a cold, lazy wind rustling the peonies in the yard, and as the raindrops rolling down his navy raincoat, which had begun to dry in the sun’s emerging light. Though hindered by his baggage, Chanyeol stormed through the arcade and swept across the blades of wet grass, uncaring of the green stains forming on his socks.

“You got rejected, didn’t you?” The cat leapt out of Jongin’s arms, shifting into his human form. With a tail curling around him, Sehun stretched out his limbs, “No wonder you look so sad.”

“Pitiful,” Jongin added.

“Pathetic, even.”

Chanyeol didn’t say a word and walked past them, heading for the gate. Jongin and Sehun silently exchanged looks, before joining his side. While Chanyeol went about undoing the chains, Jongin grabbed his wrist. “He  _did_ say yes,” he said, poking at the flushed stripe on Chanyeol’s palm. “Did he collapse then?”

“Yeah. I don’t want to talk about it.” Chanyeol pulled his hand away, and the chains unravelled. He pushed the gate open, ignoring the hushed whispers between the younger pair of boys. “Let’s just go home.”

Bird songs echoed in Sage Wood’s, making up for the lack of conversation. Their feet trod on soft earth, with the crunch of the twigs accompanied by the rattle of Chanyeol’s suitcase latches whenever Sehun and Jongin took turns carrying the luggage. It wasn’t so much out of kindness, as it was for the promise of a free meal.

Hooting owls marked their arrival at the blackthorn, the shoots of which were dripping with rainwater. While Sehun thought to fill his brother in on what he had missed, Chanyeol remained silent, lost in thought. Sehun nudged his arm, “You’ll find another partner. It’s not the end of the world.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Chanyeol stepped onto the stump, paying no heed to any more of Sehun’s attempts at consoling him.

When Morford Hill came into view and the blackthorn opened up, a dozen umbrellas raised against the spitting rain greeted them. Beneath the uniform sheet of black, there stood several men with solemn expressions, waiting around the tree.

“We should move, that’s a long queue,” said Chanyeol, ushering Jongin and Sehun onto the patch of flowers. As the trio meandered through the unmoving crowd, the eyes of one man met Chanyeol’s. Chanyeol averted his gaze, finding the stare uncomfortable, only to lock eyes with another. His throat tightened. He looked elsewhere. Another one looked back. Every single man was looking straight at him.

They had no intention of boarding the blackthorn.

“Shit, we need to-” A spark whizzed by Chanyeol, and with a small burst of light, Jongin and Sehun collapsed onto the ground. Chanyeol’s heart began to race. Instinct told him to reach for his sword and stab the closest man. Experience told him to wait.

The crowd parted, revealing a familiar face. One eye with a pale iris. The other was a dull black, bearing some semblance to the boy Chanyeol had come to know.

“Chanyeol,” said Kyungsoo. His wrists were bound, his countenance as inscrutable as the men who gathered around him. “We need to talk.”

 


End file.
